Facing the Consequences
by crockywock
Summary: I wrote this to explore what was going on inside the people who became Death Eaters. It is set in Snape's early years as a teacher and written from the viewpoint of Florence who appears in GoF. A girl very like Neville in many respects. FINISHED.
1. Seeing Severus

**Author's notes:** This is an old story I found when clearing up my hard drive. It was written before OotP, but the only thing really not matching with JKR's latest revelations is the fact that Severus starts teaching straight away after finishing school. Otherwise I liked the feeling of the story, the main character actually facing things that occured in my own past, mixed with the problem of being born into a time where Lord Voldemort is at large... So I decided put it up anyway. Chapter by chapter, though, to have time for some last-minute editing. Hope you like it.

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Seeing Severus

**

It was a dark night. Near the edge of the village, surrounded by a veil of glittering illumination and mute sounds, the New Year's Eve festivities were slowly but unmistakably winding down. Between all the voices, the music and the sparkling light Snape's tiny hut looked a bit like an island. Or was it just me? There was no sound nor movement and I was wondering if there was anyone inside.

When I was climbing the four steps up to the slightly American looking cottage I suddenly became aware of an uneasiness inside myself and stopped. What was I doing here? Would not my sudden appearance look foolish - at this time of such a night? I noticed a feeble gleam of light coming from the curtains of the previously deserted looking window next to the entrance. He was still awake. And he had visitors!

A huge lump fought its way up my throat and for several minutes I stood in front of the small wooden door which, as I knew, lead inside a tiny single-room-apartment and through which I now perceived small voices talking to each other. Was it safe? My hand, moving towards the handle, trembled slightly. I looked down at my fingers - pale and stiff of cold - and pulled them back again. Not like this. Not tonight. I stepped backwards and hit the handrail of the porch which surrounded the hut. Again I heard voices from the inside and suddenly the door opened.

"See you next week, then," a familiar voice said, belonging to a person whose backside had appeared in front of me, "I am looking forward to our first staff meeting!"

The person turned and I looked into the eyes of Professor McGonagall, my Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.

"Here's a visitor, Severus," she said, having recovered from the shock of meeting a student at this time of night. "What do you think, Albus, shall we bring this evening to an end with a couple of sandwiches and butterbeer?"

An elderly gentleman appeared at the doorstep. He did up his cloak with far more effort than necessary and stared into the darkness outside, curious who his Potions master's late-night visitor might be. Our eyes met and his expression changed into a mischievous smile.

"Miss Dyker! Out of bed at this time of the night?"

"It's New Year's Eve, Professor Dumbledore," I defended myself, causing the headmaster to chuckle lightly. Without any further inquiries he and Professor McGonagall strolled towards the lights, the music and the butterbeer. There was no sound from inside the hut now. I peered through the open door with great caution and saw the contours of a man who was laying on his bed with a blanket pulled over his black-haired head.

"Uhm... Professor?"

I made a daring step forward and another one, but he did not move. Instead, the front door shut with a bang so that I was standing in the dim light produced by a small oil-lamp next to the door, right in the middle of the cabin's only room, feeling extremely awkward and helpless. I did not speak. Instead, I watched my tall, slender Potions teacher - or rather: his visible parts - and tried to guess what he was thinking. It was only after a while that he suddenly seemed ready to take notice of another human being in the room. He sighed, turned around and looked straight into my eyes.

"What?"

I gulped. Opened my mouth to say something, but changed my mind and shut it again.

"I am rather tired, Florence," he said angrily. "I didn't get quite as much sleep last night as I would have needed. So, if you don't mind..."

I smiled. He seemed so cold. So very different from how he had used to be. And yet there was suddenly something in his voice - was it sarcasm? - that I had been missing for a while.

"Insomnia?" I asked sympathetically and sat down at the other bed, which was standing next to the wardrobe, beneath another window.

"Yes," he replied sharply, "caused by impertinent late-night visitors, and... Ouch! Damn it!" A sudden jolt of pain made him get up.

"Swearing won't help," I said coldly. "Brew yourself a potion - I can sense your headache from here, Severus!"

That hit home. He sat bolt upright and stared at me, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"_Professor Snape_ - to you," he said in a slow and menacing voice, "and I have not got a headache!" He left his bed in the most dignified way possible and stalked towards the washbasin for a glass of water. I was delighted about his inimitable way of walking particularly upright, yet nevertheless slithering over the wooden floor and over the tiny carpet in front of the basin like a giant black serpent. He, on the other hand, still refused to take notice of me. Instead, he returned to his bedside table and started unpacking a pain-killer.

"The great Potions master uses plain Muggle-medicine?" I noticed that I was sounding derisive and hated myself for it. He turned around, his face motionless and cold.

"Yes! Why bother making these myself? _Surely_ you know that the most effective available potion these days is nothing but the raw material for aspirin?"

I sighed and stared out of the window. He brought the glass to his lips without taking his eyes off me and emptied it in one go. "Well?" he asked, not pacified in the slightest, "Why are you wasting my time, Florence?"

"_Miss Dyker_ - to you," I replied coldly, "same rights for everyone!"

"Quod licet iovi non licet bovi," he retorted, successfully shutting my trap. I had no idea what he was talking about. Instead of thinking about a witty remark, though, I started examining his look a bit closer. Had, for a second, a smile appeared at the man's motionless face? A sudden thought stroke me. Perhaps it was not too late after all? To put things right again. To protect Severus Snape of himself - and others. I looked miserably into his black eyes, which returned my glance half tired, half suspicious.

"I don't need your help," he said, anticipating my question. "Keep your opinion for yourself if all you can give me is a bunch of female cynicism!"

"I'll take that 'female' as a compliment," I snarled, "after what you called me last time I tried to talk some sense into you."

"Please yourself," he muttered. "But it wasn't intended to be one."

I snorted and watched the ceiling, not knowing whether I should be angry or not.

"Good night," he said impatiently after a while, "I'll go to sleep now!"

"You just want people to admire you!" I yelled, driven by a sudden jolt of anger. "It is Lucius again, isn't it? But he doesn't care how brilliant a potion-brewer you are, take my word for it! You will _always_ be his slave if you don't stop devoting your whole life to him!"

"You don't get it, do you?", he snarled, "That's just typical of a woman! Commenting on everything without knowing what you are talking about!"

"That's funny coming from you when it is exactly what _you_ are famous for among the students," I retorted and raised, "but if you want to insult me I'll take my leave!" I approached the door at a snail's pace.

"No - stay!" should have been his immediate reaction, but of course I hoped, once more, in vain. Instead of crossing the doorstep as I probably should have done, I turned on my heels and stamped my foot.

"You might as well ask me to stay!" This was humiliating. "Since that is what you want, isn't it?"

"I want to sleep," he replied, removed his shoes and socks and sat down on his bed. "which is _exactly_ what I am going to do now!"

"Bastard!" I snarled. "Your arrogance is going to kill you one day. If you don't get stabbed in the back by your best friend, that is."

"We'll see about that," he muttered sleepily and crawled even deeper into his blankets.

I was fuming. How dare you, Severus? I did not speak. How dare you treat me like that after all that was? After all we have been through?

There was a sudden knock on the door and I jumped. Without thinking I leaped towards the second bed and hid under a heap of blankets. I did not imagine that Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall would be very impressed to find me in here now, seeing as they had observed me entering a full twenty minutes ago. The limit of decency had long been exceeded. Even during their holidays students and teachers of Hogwarts had to retain a certain distance after all. Particularly since both, Dumbledore and McGonagall, were familiar with Severus's and my past.

Severus was obviously sick and tired now and did not react until the person outside had knocked impatiently for another few times.

"What?!?"

"Severus, mon ami!" I heard a familiar voice and only narrowly escaped a heart-attack. It was Lucius Malfoy. Severus jumped out of bed, forgetting his feigned tiredness at once.

"Lucius!"

I assumed that remaining out of sight might be a good idea just for the moment and Severus seemed to be of the same mind, since he did not bother introducing me to Lucius, nor, in fact, did he mention my presence at all when motioning his distinguished and very superior-looking visitor in.

Lucius was just over three years older than his friend. His face resembled Severus's. He, however, had light blond hair and a somewhat appealing appearance. One might have gone as far as to call him handsome. During his and Severus's time at Hogwarts, Lucius had always been surrounded by a large group of girls, following him around wherever he went. Naturally _I_ had never belonged to those. For some reason, inexplicable perhaps, and certainly never comfortable, I had felt drawn towards Severus since I had been blessed with the first signs of what scientists would call 'maturity'.

Lucius, of course, was noticeably superior. Very uncharacteristically, Severus took his orders without hesitation. I got the impression that he was completely under Lucius's control, although the latter hardly ever seemed to openly demand obedience. Severus was his devotee by nature. Admittedly, Lucius also knew exactly how to emphasise his good features, whereas Severus still seems to have problems acknowledging the proper moment for a hair wash.

"This is my son Marcus," said Lucius and I lifted the edge of my blanket just enough to catch sight of a small boy with fair, shoulder-length hair, who could not be more than four years old, "I don't think you have met?"

Severus shook his head. "Is Narcissa well?" he asked, ignoring the boy, "I heard she suffers from bad health?"

"She's all right," Lucius said simply. "There was an... 'accident' involving Alastor Moody. He will pay, of course!"

Severus rose an eyebrow.

"Let's see you take on Moody," he remarked flatly. "That man is invincible, I'm telling you."

"That man is blessed with too much strength," Lucius replied in the same tone, "and with too many limbs, I tell _you_. We'll see if there isn't anything we can do about that."

Severus nodded mutely. Nothing happened for a while.

"Don't you want to know what I came for?" Lucius finally asked with just a dash of anger and impatience in his voice. "Introducing you to my son is no reason for me to turn up at your filthy dump in the middle of the night when I could be celebrating New Year's Eve, you know!"

"Hey...", Severus began, but Lucius laughed and clapped his shoulder. "Just kidding, of course!"

Severus remained silent, but I could feel his reservation - as well as my own.

"The Dark Lord has further plans," said Lucius quickly and watched the change of expression on Severus's face with some amusement. "They involve... _you_!"

"M-me?"

I did not like the sound of Severus's voice. Something in it told me that Lucius' words scared him. But there was something else which had caught my attention. Had Lucius just mentioned the _Dark Lord_?

"I can't ask for another leave," said Severus finally, "Dumbledore will be suspicious. I have only just had the 'flew' for over three weeks, after all!"

Lucius grinned. His face showed contemptuous pride and conceit at the same time. Did he know more than he was telling Severus? Trying desperately to withstand the temptation of growling I continued listening instead. Indeed, I was so busy fighting against my anger that it took me a while to notice Lucius's son Marcus strolling towards my hideaway.

"No," I gasped when his tiny hands nearing my blanket finally caught my attention, "go away!"

I imagined the look on Lucius Malfoy's face if he learned that I had overheard his mentioning the _Dark Lord_ and shuddered. But Marcus refused to turn around. Instead he shot a longing look towards the window-still. I squealed inwardly. If he attempted to climb it, my hideaway would get busted for sure. Obviously, Severus had problems concentrating on his conversation as well, as his nervous glance met the window-still more often than usual now.

"I will, of course, inform the Dark Lord of your refusal, if that is your wish," Lucius now said not yet noticing what was going on, "but I do not think he will be very happy!"

"N-no! I will, of course... oblige," Severus hastily assured. "Tell me what happened and what he wants us to do!"

"A wizarding family near Hogsmeade," Lucius replied, "Wormtail has been helpful - for a change!"

Severus nodded. "When?"

"Tomorrow night," Lucius droned. "Don't fail me. If you are not _available_ so I have to do the work all by myself again, I'm not going to cover up for you."

Severus nodded once more. "Don't worry. I will be there!"

"That's a good boy," said Lucius coldly and clapped Severus on his shoulder once more. "I know you won't dare disappoint me again! Marcus? Off we go!" He walked towards my bed, without noticing the inflated blanket (because of the room's darkness perhaps), grabbed his son and left the cabin. Severus's harassed look followed him until the door shut with a bang.

"Damn!"

I came out from under the blanket in silence and saw Severus sitting on his bed again. His black eyes were staring into the darkness showing no recognisable emotions. Then, suddenly, he seemed to remember the presence of another human being in the room and his eyes narrowed instantly.

"Satisfied?"

"No," I replied sharply, "You've given in again!"

"I am obeying orders! _And_ I am taking a good friend's advice," he said just as sharply. "That has nothing to do with 'giving in' as you like to call it."

I stared at him and I felt a lump in my throat. "You are a Death Eater," I whispered. "You are a member of You-Know-Who's inner circle!"

Severus returned my look without blinking. "Surprised?"

I nodded mutely. We were looking at each other for a while without speaking. Then, suddenly, Severus got up. Another pain-killer resolved in water and he drunk as hastily as the first one.

"I'll have to brew a potion after all," he muttered to himself. "this substance is useless when it comes to... anxiety!"

"Are you going to kill these people?" I asked calmly.

He ignored me.

"To get them out of your way," I continued. "Are you going to torture them?" His glass fell down with a clash and broke into a thousand pieces.

"No!" His hands were shaking and he turned again. My words had upset him - more than he was willing to admit. He stared into my eyes, which, since the small oil-lamp's weak light started to expire, could hardly be more than a faint shimmer at my dark face now. I got up and came closer. We were standing in front of each other like ghosts, not willing or, indeed, able to speak. None of us could break the tension for a while. Then Severus turned and spoke,

"It is Lucius... not me! I don't... I never... 'Leave the fun to me,' he says - and that's what I do."

He had turned, his back towards me, and was looking into the mirror over the basin. He looked almost helpless in his large, black robes, with only his bare feet sticking out.

"I know you better than anyone else, Severus," I said quietly, "And I think I can see the reason, why you feel indebted towards Lucius Malfoy."

He didn't answer.

"Take me with you. Let me see it."

"No way!" he gasped and turned on his heel. "You wouldn't understand..."

I was tempted to laugh. But my inner voice was screaming. "I don't understand most things about you anyway." I finally managed to say. But he kept shaking his head and I left, finally, without looking back once.


	2. The Killing

**

The Killing

**

Distant thunder rumbled over the land. The new year's second night was rainy and a thunderstorm approached from the south - crawled over the land like a giant snake - powerful and inexorable. Not long until it would be here. I felt how Severus longed to carry out their task before the inevitable shower of rain poured down on them. All the more excited and full of thrilled anticipation was Lucius, whom we met halfway towards Hogsmeade.

Of course, Severus had no idea I was there. I had a vivid picture of his face, had he known about my father's old Invisibility Cloak, which I had never used until today. Invisible and silent as I was, I followed the young Professor when he stepped towards Lucius and they shook hands.

"This is just the perfect weather," Lucius shouted, the wind deadening half of his words. "Thunderstorms are convenient when it comes to Dark Magic. Helpful even, especially for Avada Kedavra!"

He did not have to fear someone might hear him. No sensible person would spend a night like this outside on their own free will, although there were only a few drops here and there just yet. The wind and thunder created an ominous magical mood everywhere, which I was sure even Muggles were bound to sense.

I followed them from a little distance, because I was not too sure if my Cleansweep would disappear completely under the Invisibility Cloak. The darkness, however, seemed to take care of that problem. Neither Lucius nor Severus even glanced in my direction.

"We're late!" Lucius shouted through the roaring gale and they mounted their brooms without losing any more time.

"The couple won't mind," Severus shouted back, adding "They aren't likely to sue us!" as an afterthought.

Lucius laughed at that comment and did a high-spirited somersault with his broom. "Of course not," he replied and shot away, giving Severus and myself enormous difficulties to follow him.

I grabbed my broom tightly and put every effort in keeping up. I could not lose them! Not now. We had to be close. In the distance I could see the lights of Hogsmeade already - time had passed quickly.

Severus and Lucius landed in front of a small farmhouse, whereas I arrived a couple of yards behind them, carefully wrapping the Invisibility Cloak around my broom and myself.

"I know this place," I thought, taking a closer look at the old, refurbished cottage, which seemed to accommodate no living soul at the present. "I know it well."

Severus seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because he stopped and thought for a while before suddenly expressing his concern. "Lucius, you cannot be -"

Lucius shut him up with a wave of his hand. He stared incessantly at the cottage's windows in which a feeble gleam of light had appeared, ignoring the concern in Severus's voice.

"Edgar and Mary-Ann Bones," he whispered. "Rather old, but a tough lot, nevertheless. That's what he said, anyway. That's why he got us to do the job."

"Let's not waste any more time then," Severus replied after a moment's hesitation. "I want to finish this quickly."

I was not sure if I wanted to see it. Something told me that what was about to happen was wrong. That you could not just stand and watch an old couple being murdered. On the other hand, I was not even sure if Severus was capable of such a thing. I could see quite clearly what must have happened. Lucius must have covered up for Severus once, who consequently now felt indebted towards him. And now Severus was a puppet. Slave to his former classmate who unscrupulously exercised dark magic. He had, of course, always been very interested in the dark arts, but I was well aware that he had never dared translate his knowledge into action - until he had met Lucius Malfoy.

In fact, Severus was rather good-natured. However, he tended towards impulsive reactions and was all too often carried away by his powerful emotions rather than using his intellect. Ever since he had met Lucius this had been his tragedy. It must have been during my third or fourth year at Hogwarts when Severus suddenly made friends with people I did not want to get involved with, so I told him he would have to choose. And so he had. Our ways had parted.

I shook my head to get rid of this particular unpleasant memory and forced a silent laugh. How young we had been... how naïve. And how many couples did maintain their relationship once both partners had left school anyway? I had brooded all too long over this, I decided.

My string of thoughts was interrupted by another clap of thunder. I watched Severus and Lucius walking towards the farmhouse and saw first movements behind its windows.

"Your end is near," I thought and shuddered. "Death comes surreptitiously... on silent feet."

Severus and Lucius looked at each other and raised their wands. Blue flames emerged from their edges, which immediately set fire to the house's straw-thatched roof. Standing in the yellow light of the first flickering flames I could not help admiring the magnetic fascination and horrible beauty that came along with death. It was only now I realised, though, that tonight I would witness Severus kill. My heart started pounding and I felt sick all of a sudden.

"They kill and torture," Professor Moody, our Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher in year three had always said. "Constant Vigilance! When treading around a potentially dark wizard." The thought of Severus being one of Moody's enemies made me close my eyes for a moment, trying not to think of what they could do to one another.

"He is one of them!" I whispered to myself. "Did you think he was any different?"

The answer was yes. I had to admit that I had never seen more in him than a silent witness. I had made myself believe that Severus Snape would never take part in the Dark Lord's atrocities, because he was too clever, perhaps. Because I had considered him above all this.

Both eyes wide open I watched the scene before me, which was suddenly becoming shocking reality. Lucius' expression had turned stiff, as well as Severus's, whose face seemed to consist of no more than a pair of merciless black eyes now. They were staring at the front door, through which three people burst in blind horror.

"Fire!" the woman cried. "Do something, love!"

The man took out his wand from under his robes and pointed it at his house. The wind howled and I felt another shudder crawl up my back.

"You've got to help me!", the man shouted. "I can't do it by myself!"

"It is a magic fire," the third person now yelled. A woman, carrying a baby in her right and three broomsticks under her left arm. I could see that Lucius was surprised to see a third person come out of the house. He and Severus looked bewildered. They quickly exchanged looks. Then, however, they approached the small group, looking more determined than ever.

The three house-owners had now become aware of the intruders and stood, clutching their wands, like a wall in front of their cottage. The child started to cry and buried her face in the woman's robes, but the latter stared motionlessly at the approaching Death Eaters. Lucius raised his wand and grinned. He looked inexorable and their expressions were full of pure terror.

"Malfoy!" the man hissed. "I should have known!" He raised his wand and cursed. This, however, made no impression whatsoever on the taller Death Eater. With an easy gesture he summoned a massive shield of energy which made his enemies turn pale. The young woman desperately looked for help and raised her wand as well, but eventually lowered it again.

"Brand new piece of magic!" Lucius shouted through the once again upcoming wind. "The Dark Lord's personal invention! There's no counter curse as far as _I_ know!"

I saw the two women exchanging a quick glance. Both raised their wands. The man followed their example and all three of them spoke a curse I had only ever seen in books, never in real life: "_Tempestappropinqua_!"

Instantly, I heard the rumbling of a storm front coming out of the distance and saw houses and farmland being lifted into the air. A cyclone of unimaginable size came towards the exact place where Lucius, Severus and I were standing now. I stepped back in panic and impulsively drew out my wand.

"Let's go!" Severus shouted. "Lucius! We won't be able to fight it!"

But Lucius did not move. "No!" he bellowed. "We'll force it back!"

Both Death Eaters took out their wands. We faced the approaching tornado with joined forces while its howling drowned out everything within ten miles of us. My gaze was fixed on the eye of the cyclone and I obstinately repeated the only words that could possibly save us now, "_Tempestace! Tempestace!_"

The cyclone seemed to understand. Three magicians fortunately seemed to have enough power to control it. The rain stopped and the whirlwind slowly turned to the opposite direction. Lucius gave a roar of triumph and shouted something at Severus I could not understand, because of the noise the cyclone still made. A cyclone that was now heading towards Hogsmeade.

I lowered my wand, panting of exhaustion. Severus, too, heaved a sigh of relief and, for a second, looked straight into my eyes.

"Thanks, Florence," he whispered. "Couldn't have done it without you!"

He turned again, as Lucius ran towards the house, cursing. I, on the other hand, was thunderstruck. How was it that he could see me? I looked down my body and gasped. The Invisibility Cloak had slid off my shoulders so that it now only just covered my legs and feet. The rest of me was perfectly visible. I cursed and pulled the cloak over my soaking hair again, but the damage was done. Naturally, Severus had spotted me at an instant, unlike Lucius who seemed completely blinded by blood thirst. Severus went after him when he ran towards the building and I noticed that the Malfoy looked a bit like a cracked bull. He waved his wand and eventually pointed it at Edgar Bones, forgetting all his security precautions.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he bellowed, and indeed succeeded in disarming his enemy. I saw Mrs. Bones pointing her wand at Lucius, but Severus was quicker. "_Avada Kedavra_," he said in hardly more than a whisper and the woman collapsed.

I was in a trance-like condition, watching Mr. Bones fling himself towards his wife and howl in agony. I heard his mute screams when Lucius tortured him and saw him collapse when he could not withstand any longer. He died even before Lucius had risen his wand to perform the killing curse.

"This cannot be happening," said my inner voice, but I had _seen_ the impossible. My eyes were fixed on Severus, who was motionlessly staring at his victim, Lucius and the twitching old man.

"What did you do?" the voice whispered, not telling if those words were aimed at me or Severus. I was confused. Was this my fault, too? Hadn't I been most supportive in this matter? Hadn't I remained silent when knowing exactly what was going to happen? Through what seemed like thick, white fog I watched the two Death Eaters argue. Severus shrugged and Lucius brutally grabbed his arm. Something was wrong. I would have understood what he shouted, had I been myself. Still, I saw and heard only the outline of everything until Lucius finally fired the Dark Mark into the air and he and Severus approached the place where the three of us had left our brooms.

"To your house," Lucius yelled and had already lifted off the ground. Severus followed him, not without letting me mount his broom behind him first. He seemed aware that I was in no condition to fly.

The journey was exhausting nevertheless. Though I felt I might not have the strength to cling to a broom properly I couldn't bring myself to touch Severus either - let alone hold on to him. Deeply confused I clutched the end of his broom as tightly as possible, while trying to retain my balance with both feet outstretched. Severus's way of flying did not make things easier by any means. Lurching from side to side and changing speed every now and then he validated my suspicion that he, too, had not come through the evening untouched. I, however, did not pity him - for the first time in my life.


	3. Lost and Found

**

Lost and Found

**

Along with my fellow students and all the teachers I returned to Hogwarts at the end of the week. I would be studying for another three months and eventually leave this school with all its nice and horrible aspects for good.

I didn't board the Hogwarts Express, being one of few students who could be brought directly to Hogsmeade by their parents, because the way to London was about three times longer than the way to Hogsmeade station. It seemed reasonable to choose the direct way.

Very soon, therefore, I was sitting in our common room once again, chatting avidly to a couple of girls - about our various holiday experiences, about Christmas, and about New Year's Eve.

I didn't lose a word about my visit at Severus's, however. Of course, my friends knew that we had once been together, but that lay way back in time and I had no intention of digging all the old matters out again, especially not with this specific kind of girl around. So we talked about our Christmas presents, about Jenny's relationship with Rufus and about poor Tom and William Brandon, who had been forced to spend their Christmas holidays at Hogwarts yet again.

I will not pretend to have been particularly interested in all the gossip, so after a while I excused myself and left the common room, which gained me weird looks from all the other girls which I chose to ignore.

I had been strolling along the corridors for a while, before I could finally bring myself to go near the dungeon vaults, which was the same as getting closer to Severus, of course. I hadn't seen him since our fight against the hurricane, and I seriously doubted that he even wanted to talk to me, but an irresistible impulse drove me towards his dormitory, where I finally stopped. More or less self-confidently I knocked at his door.

"Er... _Professor Snape_?" No one answered. "Severus!" Of course he knew my voice. I was almost sure he remained silent on purpose, which annoyed me to no extend. "_Open!_ I want to talk to you," I said angrily, taking care, however, not to yell, because, quite naturally, I was not supposed to yell at a Hogwarts teacher in such a disrespectful manner. Severus, of course, knew about that, too, and he remained silent.

"COWARD!" I hissed and kicked against the door, knowing that this was at least something he couldn't fail to notice.

"That is quite useless, I am afraid!" a sudden voice behind me said and I jumped and whirled around. It was Professor McGonagall.

"He... isn't he there?"

"He sent an owl saying that he wouldn't be able to return in time this year," McGonagall informed me, "but even so, I should think it is rather unusual for a student to pay her Potions teacher a visit before lesson have even started. And..." she raised an eyebrow, "...in his private quarters?"

I grinned. McGonagall knew perfectly well what was going on and that I still felt I could come and see Severus as often and wherever I liked. I regarded this as my personal privilege.

When after his graduation Severus had spontaneously decided to fill the Potions vacancy, I had suddenly been confronted with my former boyfriend teaching me every Friday afternoon, which, admittedly, had been slightly uncomfortable at first. I smiled at the thought of it. Professor McGonagall, however, was not joking.

"I was under the impression that for the last few years your relationship has been of an entirely professional nature," my Transfiguration teacher said with a slight frown on her face. "Have there been any... changes - around _New Year's Eve_, maybe?"

I grinned again and flushed slightly. "Not that I know of," I said. "I was only... we had a little argument I wanted to settle... before the lessons start again." I realised that my face went even redder, although I my reply had been perfectly truthful. McGonagall noticed and smiled eventually.

"Well, whatever happened," she said, without loosing the usual firmness in her voice, "I do hope you will be able to pull yourself together for another tree months! I would not be very happy if the term was overshadowed by the relationship of a Gryffindor student with the newly elected head of Slytherin! An unusual combination, that is for sure, but most of all an illegal one. I expect you to act your age."

"Certainly, Professor," I said quickly. "There will be no... disagreeable incidents."

I liked Professor McGonagall. She treated me (and most of the other students) like adults. She took us seriously and expected to be treated the same - as a teacher and as a person.

An intimidating person," my mother had always said. "Intelligent, competent, ambitious... It is a shame she is head of _Gryffindor._"

And here was the origin of all my problems: Both, my sweet but slightly hysterical mother and my good-natured father had attended Hogwarts - Slytherin to be exact - and neither had ever overcome the horror of their daughter being sorted into Slytherin's greatest rival for the Quidditch- and House Cup seven years later. Indeed, both had been so upset about me being sorted into Gryffindor that they had finally declined to speak about anything to do with Hogwarts and its houses whenever I was around. Still, what came a few weeks later was as a bit of a shock, admittedly.

It was Professor McGonagall again, who asked me to stay behind at the end of Transfiguration on Friday. She told me to follow her to Professor Dumbledore's office. For what reason, she did not seem to know, but the headmaster had apparently asked for my coming in specific.

We had to climb a few steps before we finally reached Dumbledore's office, which in those days was situated in the sixth floor of the same tower where some of my fellow students had been doing Divination since our third year. You could only see an average stone wall at first, but McGonagall tapped some of the stones a couple of times and finally a portal opened, which lead through a red and gold papered passageway into the headmaster's domicile.

He was already waiting for us. He was sitting comfortably in front of his little fireplace, but got up immediately when we stepped into the small room. With an odd expression he pointed towards a chair and asked me to sit down. In fact, everything in his behaviour was so unusual that I became slightly nervous and tried to remember which crime I could possibly have committed that would cause the headmaster to talk to me in person.

"Well, hello Florence," Dumbledore said as though chatting over coffee. "How are you these days? Had a happy _New Year's Eve_, I suppose?"

I looked at him in surprise. Surely he had not asked me to come up here to talk about Severus?

"Yes. Thank you," I replied, making my voice sound as incidental as possible, "_Professor Snape_ was not in his best mood, though. He was still suffering from bad health. I did leave his house rather early..."

Dumbledore gave me a slight smile. "It is good to hear that you stick to the rules, Florence, but that is not the reason I wanted to talk to you!"

I raised an eyebrow indicating mild interest.

"You'd know, of course," Dumbledore said finally, "that violence is taking over everywhere. Wizards fight among themselves and sometimes even... against Muggles. All the witches and wizards who have not joined the dark side fight for their lives or the life of their relatives. We are all trying to stop a very mighty wizard you might have heard of..."

I nodded. Of course I knew. Just how close my look at the dark wizards' work had been, however, neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall would ever know from my lips.

"You might not have been told, however," Dumbledore continued, "that not long ago our side have won an important battle against the Dark Lord's followers. Many dark witches and wizards have been taken into custody, and even a few Death Eaters. Those who have not died during the battle, that is..."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, realising that my tone was, in fact, unduly aggressive, "but why are you telling me all this?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "I don't know how to tell you this, Florence," he said with a strangely shaking voice. "You have lost both parents. They died fighting - in the service of Lord Voldemort."

"No! It cannot be!" Professor McGonagall was thunderstruck. I remained silent and waited.

"I am sorry," Professor Dumbledore said. "If there's anything I can do..."

"Albus," McGonagall said with a trembling voice, "is this true?"

"I am afraid it is," Dumbledore said quietly. "The message came only a few hours ago. McGonagall was aghast. She looked at me and turned to the headmaster again.

"Those two... but I had so hoped... are you sure they worked for..." Dumbledore silenced her with a glance.

"Would you like some water, Florence?" he asked and I realised for the first time how weak and exhausted I suddenly felt. I looked down at the glass of water he had conjured out of thin air and nodded.

My parents never worked for you, I thought disbelievingly, though full of confidence in Dumbledore's honesty.

"How come you don't hate me?" I managed to say.

"What - because of decisions your parents made?" he replied softly. I gazed at him without taking in his words. Then, slowly, I realised what had happened. My parents were dead. My mother - my genial, energetic mother... my calm and friendly father with his grey beard and his huge eyebrows... how could they be dead? The excited thrill inside my stomach had stopped. Instead I noticed a huge lump rise in my throat and suddenly I felt extremely sick. Dumbledore's and McGonagall's condolence was drowned out by a shrill, screaming voice inside my head, uttering not clear words but just random sentences of confused terror.

"If you feel you need some time for yourself now," Dumbledore said quietly, "you are excused from all lessons, of course. I would more than understand if you wanted to take a whole week off."

I remained silent and stared out of the window. Dumbledore exchanged an uncomfortable look with Professor McGonagall and she shrugged, almost imperceptibly.

"If you would escort Florence to her dormitory, Minerva," Dumbledore finally suggested. "Florence? Would you like to go back to Gryffindor?"

The Deputy Headmistress and I nodded simultaneously. My pain disappeared. Instead I was in a state of bizarre bewilderment I had experienced only once before - the day I had seen Severus perform the killing curse. In a weird kind of slow-motion I relived the day we had battled the deadly hurricane and little by little my brain started to create a mental image of my dead parents, which I knew was going to stay with me forever.

Early the next morning I made my way to the dungeons, looking forward to double Potions for the first time this year, only to find out that Severus had still not returned. Instead, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lewis, decided that this was an excellent opportunity to finally embark on the long planned expedition into the Forbidden Forest where we were to observe more or less dangerous beasts, although most of the students took this as a mere opportunity to refill their stocks of dangerous or poisonous herbs and mushrooms.

"This trip is for my _Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts_ Students," Professor Lewis excitedly explained, "and for members of the _Advanced Potions_ course as well. Since some of them need to get hold of very rare ingredients for their mixtures I told them they are welcome to spend their free time with us."

The Advanced Potions group was not big. It was composed of people whose mind worked in such a completely alien way that I was by no means able to value most of their ideas any better than a pure-blood was generally able to understand the function of the simplest Muggle artefacts. Their conversations were often strange and usually scary. Naturally, none of my fellow members of the _Advanced Defence_ group was particularly pleased about being forced to spend their morning with such a bunch of weirdoes. Especially since this feeling was entirely mutual. Therefore, when the sun had risen properly behind the typical white fog of the Northern Highlands, a group of particularly unmotivated, bad-tempered Hogwarts students entered the Forbidden Forest, almost all of them wearing huge scowls on their faces.

"Can you believe our luck?" my friend Chris said, not troubling to keep her voice down. "This could have been so exciting if we didn't have to do it with _them_! I thought I would never have to spend another day with this malicious bunch of potion-lovers again."

By pure chance, our year's _Advanced Defence_ course consisted of Gryffindors, and Gryffindors only. _Advanced Potions_, on the other hand, had remained almost purely Slytherin, so that only half the time for the past fourteen months Gryffindors and Slytherins houses had been forced to put up with each other. To my astonishment, everyone seemed to be more than satisfied with this solution. Even Dumbledore had once expressed his amazement what an "extraordinarily quiet year" concerning the houses' rivalry we were.

By another complete coincidence Chris and I were doing exactly the same courses and I had to bear statements like this five times a day. This was not the first time I was getting annoyed about one of them, but I had learned, from many incidents involving Severus and his old enemies, that remaining calm can save you a lot of trouble. So I decided to keep quiet and by doing so maybe preserved our friendship for a little longer than might have been natural. Nothing but a quick, harmless remark slipped from my lips before I could help it this time: "They are not nastier than we are..."

"How do you know?" she snapped.

"I got to know quite a few of them very well," I replied. "I spent a lot of time in their commons, after all."

Jenny giggled and I went red.

"They just can't stand our arrogance," I therefore unwisely continued. "And most of all the so-called _Gryffindor chivalry_. It just irritates them, which seems very understandable, actually." Chris gave me an unbelieving stare.

"Who is arrogant?" she said, looking disgusted. "Really, Florence, I think you've spent a little too much time in the dungeons. You must be out of your mind."

"I am not," I retorted. "But I have a very clear opinion on what I see. And I see that some of the Slytherins hate the position they hold at Hogwarts. And the way some Gryffindors treat them."

"You are out of your mind!" Chris screamed. "They're Slytherins, for Merlin's sake! Have I ever told you that you sound just like one of them? I really have no idea what the Sorting Hat had in mind when it put you into Gryffindor."

"Nor do I," I hissed. Chris didn't reply. Instead, she left me and joined a group of girls who were talking about anti-splitdamage spells.

I spent the weekend on my own. When it had passed and I joined breakfast once again on Monday morning, I noticed with a jolt of delight that _he_ was back. I found, however, that Severus was anything but in the mood of talking these days. He seemed determined to catch up every second he had missed, so that most of the time he just locked himself in his lab.

On Friday morning I noticed with surprise that, among other feelings, a jolt of excitement hit me when Severus entered the room. I was glad to have him back. And from a quick glance in my direction he seemed glad to see me, too. Otherwise, nothing unusual caught my attention, except that Severus, having arrived well before time as usual, looked exceptionally feeble and very pale.

"For your N.E.W.T.s," he started the term's first lesson, "I expect you to know about the common legal herbs against mental illness. You should know at least three different kinds of veritaserum, all the basic potion ingredients of category A to F and the effect of the 27 poisons we've covered so far." Most of the students sighed. The results of our last essay on poisons had not at all been satisfying for most of us.

"The general requirements have been pushed up again," Severus said and his eyes met mine, "_Some_ of you might be facing serious difficulties."

I shuddered, suddenly realising that he was going to be my examiner and had to give an unbiased judgement. A weak attempt to brush these thoughts away failed horribly and resulted in an embarrassed grin when I suddenly remembered McGonagall's words. Had she admonished him as well?

"Miss Dyker, exactly _why_ are you grinning?" he acted in immediate response, "I don't think that you above all will find this new situation particularly amusing." This brought me down to earth again. My excellent mood melted and I cleared my throat while my classmates where sniggering.

"Yes, of course... _Professor_."

I found that this scene had had an unforeseen effect on me. When leaving the dungeons and heading towards Gryffindor tower I was sobbing. Tears poured down my face, but I could not recall what had upset me so much. Certainly not Severus? I was angry and felt hot embarrassment rising inside me. Chris did not dare talk to me. Or perhaps she was still mad because of what I had said to her on Friday afternoon. The mirror was, in any case, my only company this evening ("Well, well, well. A pretty face like this - solved in tears...?") and I greatly appreciated his company. With a sigh of as much relief as self-pity I sunk into my pillows and closed my eyes.

I returned to reality only when the sun had disappeared behind the mountains.

"_Defence Against the Dark Arts,_ oh no!"

I got up as quickly as possible and hastened down towards the Great Hall just in time to discover that dinner was over. Some of the teachers and a few students were still sitting at their tables, chatting or laughing quietly. Professor Lewis was talking to Severus at the staff table, making grotesque movements with his arms. I came closer and they looked up in surprise.

"Miss Dyker, You were absent in class."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Miss _Dyker_! I am positively shocked!"

He was in a playful mood, obviously. I, on the other hand, had pictures of my parents' reproachful expressions on my mind again and decided to be in a foul mood for a change, giving him a sinister look which he ignored.

"Let me guess," he remarked coldly, "you missed a very vital lesson on Erumpents today. That one'll cost you the exam, take my word for it."

"Not quite," I snapped, "We're doing the Unforgivable Curses. Avada Kedavra in particular!" It worked. Severus flinched and gave me a warning look.

Professor Lewis shook his head. "Let's be exact, Miss Dyker," he demanded cheerfully. "The main topic is called law and order, if I am not mistaken." He turned to Severus and explained: "They asked to do it again, you see. Some of them strive for an Auror's career!"

For a moment Severus's face seemed to brighten up. "Oh, really?" he said silkily. "And which ones would that be?"

Professor Lewis, obviously flattered by Severus's interest, smiled broadly. "Caradoc Dearborn, for example. Benjy Fenwick, I think, and... oh yes, that Burton girl... what was her name again?"

"Ada," Severus whispered. "How interesting."

"Unfortunately, Miss Dyker has informed me that she'd do anything but hunting dark wizards for a job." Professor Lewis said regretfully. "Which is a shame, really, but she seemed to have other things in mind."

Severus's expression became motionless again. "Well," he said, "what is Miss Dyker planning to do once she has managed to grow up?"

I returned his dark look and tried to make my voice firm. "I'll be a Death Eater, of course!"

Professor Lewis glanced at Severus, then at me, cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "I... I am sure you don't mean this, Miss Dyker...?"

I turned towards him and regretted it at an instant. My fury towards Severus disappeared and at the same time my parents returned to my memory, clearer and more penetrating than before. For a second I remained motionless. The effect wore out as abruptly as it had appeared and I assembled myself, managing a winning smile.

"Of course not, Professor. By the way, I came to apologise for missing the lesson. I fell asleep after Potions..."

Severus was looking murderous.

"Very well, Miss Dyker," Lewis said. "You might want to copy what we've done from Miss Crow. And please summarise chapter 23 for me, will you? That one should contain everything you have missed."

I nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

This kind of subliminal quarrel was not the usual way things went, of course. During the following weeks Severus and I managed to get along with each other quite well, even though he hardly ever glanced at me and I caught myself longing for a fight. Only at times when I had my mind on how to insult Severus most effectively the world around me and the memory of my dead parents seemed to shrink enough for me to ignore them. Arguing with Severus was my way of making bad thoughts disappear. But, of course, it was also simply delightful.

He was a very emotional sort of person. Even though he rarely showed his feelings I knew exactly how his mind worked and possessed the precious gift of effortlessly driving him mad with anger. He, on the other hand, knew the things I despised and developed an extraordinary skill in using this knowledge to his advantage. In fact, the likely winner of those little disputes was Severus and Severus alone. His sarcasm made me ill, delighted me and provoked passion as well as blind anger. I felt passionate towards Severus, feeding on our verbal combats and the expression on his face when yet another cauldron exploded under my watchful eyes.

One morning near the end of February, however, things changed. The Quidditch pitch wasn't covered with thick, white frost for the first time in months, and my mood was again exceptionally bad, so that my fellow students fled at the sight of me. They also frequently told me to shut up because I distracted them from their studies with senseless - or: seemingly senseless - babbling.

It was the first day of the second week after my eighteenth birthday. The time when many of us remembered that starting to revise for the final exams might not be such a bad idea after all. It was a Friday and I was sitting in _Potions_, hating the world and everything in it. Severus was just trying to explain why adding fly agaric or prussic acid to a potion of dragon liver was so exceptionally dangerous and I was playing with my wand under the table, only half paying attention to what was said. Severus was in a bad mood as well. He had been pacing up and down the classroom for several minutes now, but no one seemed to notice. He was upset about something, but only I seemed to sense it. Naturally, perhaps, since his emotions did not usually have any effect on the way he taught his lesson.

"...the prussic acid would doubtless divide the liver into several basic elements," he said, "mainly those Miss Dyker will kindly name for us, once she has finished squashing bugs under her desk!" The students sniggered. Severus's penetrating black eyes were boring into mine as though trying to tell me who was in charge here. His expression, as usual, seemed to read: "And if you can't, you will regret it for the rest of your life!"

"I have been listening," I said defiantly. "The prussic acid splits the liver and gives off phatanogen, which is a mixture of hydrocyanic gas, alcohol and elements of the liver you have not yet mentioned, Professor - mainly zhaht, waiq and nephreon."

He looked impressed.

"Excellent," he said after a while and paused for a second before continuing. "Five points to Gryffindor." The class fell silent. It was a rare enough event that Severus awarded points to Gryffindor instead of taking them away, but I could not recall a single occasion when they'd be given to me... not in Potions, anyway. I rewarded him with today's first smile. Even Chris looked at me in amazement and began to giggle. Most of the students had started whispering and Severus's expression darkened at an instant.

"There is no need for private conversations," he snarled. "Shut up at once! This topic is far too complex to waste precious lesson time chatting to your neighbour. You'll need to concentrate, everyone of you, if you want to pass your exams." And he went on teaching boring details of dragon liver potions with me continuing to play around with my wand.

Some time later (Severus still hadn't finished) a little fly appeared under the table. I smiled. Was it safe to test that squashing spell Flitwick had taught us the other day? I glanced at Severus and decided that it was not. The fly sat down at my bag and stared at me somewhat triumphantly, which put a sudden idea into my mind.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" I whispered and to my great surprise a flash of blinding green light filled the room for a second. Jenny and Chris, who shared my table, shrieked with terror. Some of the others screamed as well and covered their faces or flung themselves under the tables. Some laughed. Severus had leaped up.

"What the..."

I was still clutching my wand, staring at the dead insect on the floor next to my feet. Chris followed my look and grabbed my arm.

"Florence..."

She was interrupted by Severus, who planted himself in front of me, crossed his arms and gave me a threatening look, his eyes glittering in a highly intimidating way.

"A word in my office. Now!" he snapped, turning to my classmates. "One of Miss Dyker's usual accidents. We'll leave it here for today. I want an essay on dragon liver potions - three rolls of parchment at least. Pack up."

My stomach was still cramped when everyone had left the classroom. Everything around me was spinning and my head was pounding madly. Obediently, I followed Severus to his office when he motioned me to do so, sat down at the room's only chair and watched him sealing the door with an anti-eavesdrop spell. Having made sure that no one could come in while we were talking he turned, marched towards me, put his hands at the armrests and bored his eyes into mine.

"You. Must. Be. Mad!" he said with a slow and dangerous voice. "Using forbidden spells in my lesson - what _were_ you thinking?" I looked back at him, scowled and eventually - could not help blinking.

"I didn't mean to..."

A burning heat rose inside me and made me swallow hard. Not tears again. I tried to fight them but failed much to my embarrassment. Severus sighed and bent down.

"Don't!" he said softly.

I shivered. "I... I... it's dead..."

"It was only a fly," Severus remarked drily. "And you don't care whether it lives or not. You are just embarrassed about crying in front of me."

I gave him an angry glare.

"Why don't you stop?" he suggested.

I tried, but failed.

"Listen," he said impatiently, "what should I say? If I went blubbering like that every time I use the killing curse I wouldn't be right in the inner circle of the world's most powerful wizard much longer, would I?" His honesty surprised me. I realised that he was trying to sound sympathetic.

"You're right," I said unhappily. "It is not about the fly. About nothing, really. It's been like this for ages. I keep crying or laughing for the most stupid reasons. Just out of the blue - unable to stop myself."

"Perfectly normal," Severus remarked. "People react like that when losing someone they are close to." He smiled. "Slaying flies sounds like an excellent therapy, by the way. I should have tried that when -..." He broke off, clearly disinclined to continue. I nodded merely. Something else came to my mind just now.

"Will you tell the headmaster?"

"Most certainly not," he assured, "but you have got to tell me something."

I looked up, mildly surprised, noticing that his eyes had assumed a strange glitter and his voice was shaking slightly. There was clearly something wrong, even though I could not put my finger on it just yet. Eventually, I nodded, watching his gaze wander along my arms and hands as he spoke.

"Was this... your first attempt? Or have you had a go before?"

"What - at Avada Kedavra?"

He nodded.

I shook my head. "This was my... first time."

Severus nodded slowly, thoughtfully. After a moment's pause he rose and turned to stare at his desk. I remembered that he'd seemed worried to me at the beginning of the lesson and felt that I was about to learn the reason for it.

"The Dark Lord wants to see you," he said quietly after a while, making me gasp and open my mouth in horror.

"Vol-"

Severus flung around and put his hand over my mouth.

"Yes!" he whispered. "Don't say it. I want you to leave. Immediately."

"_What?_" I grabbed his hand and made him release me. "You can't be serious!"

"I am _deadly_ serious!" he whispered and I had a feeling that these words were not randomly chosen.

"Why me?" I snarled. "I haven't got anything to do with him!"

"You're my girl," said Severus and a sudden feeling of warmth spread inside me before I could help it. Very much like in past times when everything had been different - and easy.

"No, I'm not," I snarled. "You know that!"

"Yes, but _he_ doesn't," Severus whispered. "He thinks that you... that we... well, I had to tell him that you have witnessed the... the thing with the Bones! And because I could naturally not let him know that you had tricked me, I told him that... I had brought you - so that you could get an insight... That you've been helping me for many months. Things like that... Had to convince him that you are one of us, you know... an accomplice!" I was hardly able to breath.

"You _told_ him I was there? _Why?_"

He remained silent for a few seconds. "I'm sorry!" he finally said and fell silent again.

"Why, Severus?" I insisted. "There was no reason to tell him!"

"Believe me, my love," he said hesitantly, his voice suddenly sounding a bit raspy, "the Dark Lord has his ways of... finding out your innermost secrets. And sometimes... sometimes even my ways of defence fail me."

I was not sure whether I understood him correctly, but nodded silently and turned to leave the dungeons. "I'll think about it," I said, finishing the conversation in a very decided tone. "And I'll let you know about my decision - later."

It was a strange feeling. Lord Voldemort wanted to see me. But I wasn't going to be harmed... or killed, no - probably not. Did he want me in his service? If he did, of course, I would be safe of whatever he was planning to do to the world - to his enemies. I had been told he rewarded his servants generously. And that there weren't any outsiders among them. The group belonged together. I liked that idea. Finally being part of something? Not being left out for a change? But I didn't know what was expected of a Death Eater. Would I have to kill? Severus had told me once that you could be powerful without taking a single life. But that had been long before he had become one of the Dark Lord's followers.

It took me a while to get my thoughts in line. To my great surprise I finally realised that my curiosity in this case was stronger than my fear. I wanted to meet Him Who Must Not Be Named. I definitely wanted to see and talk to him.

The decision was made so quickly that, afterwards, it seemed almost impossible to explain when I had finally decided to follow Lord Voldemort's call - and why. When I informed Severus of my decision he was not at all that enthusiastic about the idea of taking me to the next meeting, muttering something like 'mental steadfastness' - but finally agreed.

When the day arrived (about a week later) we had double Potions in the morning and I was hardly able to sit at rest, so that Severus didn't have much trouble giving me the detention we had agreed on. This way we could leave together with none of the other students noticing. I was acting my part. In order to convince my friend Jenny that Severus and I had indeed ceased to be a couple in any way, and because I have (admittedly) never been any good at Potions, I blew up my cauldron near the end of the lesson. Severus went up the wall - literally.

"_Do_ stay behind after class, please, Miss Dyker," he said silkily. "I need to think about _suitable_ measures for this!"

So after the lesson, I obligingly sat down on one of the tables in front of his desk and waited until the classroom had emptied. As long as my fellow students were around, Severus either ignored me or shot such a sinister look in my direction that a cold shower ran over my back. When everyone had left, however, he glided towards me and wordlessly came to a halt only a few inches in front of my nose. I could see how his quiet breath distorted the buttonholes of his robes and glanced at his slender, upright chest before looking along his hooked nose into the glittering, black eyes, which were situated almost three feet above me now.

"I ought to make you scrub the dungeon floor until midnight for this," he said wearing an icy expression. "Those were my last rats. Now I'll have to ask Hagrid to get me some new ones."

I grinned. "You are absolutely revolting when you talk like that. Quite scary, actually. Do you want your students to take you for a malicious monster? A cynic?"

"I _am_ malicious and cynical," Severus replied. "And certainly dangerous. _You_ should know that."

"I do!" I said coldly, remembering the Bones couple with a shudder. I was suddenly reminded of a question which had been bugging me for ages and was finally ready and able to pose it.

"Will I have to kill?"

"Scared?" he replied softly. "You can still run for it, you know."

"But I don't want to," I said stubbornly. "I want to see him."

"Face the consequences then," he said coldly. "You have been warned!"

We remained silent for a while.

"I meet you at the back of Hagrid's hut after dinner," he said flatly after a while. "If you are not there, I am leaving without you!"

"But how?" I suddenly wondered. "Isn't Hogwarts protected by charms or anything?"

"Don't worry," he said with a smile. "You haven't discovered all my secrets yet."

I nodded and rose. "See you later then."

"Yes, see you," he replied, getting up as well and walked towards the door of his office, which swung open before he had even reached it. I, on the other hand, made my way to the Gryffindor common room only to discover that my friends had left for lunch without me.

"Being part of a group for once." I snorted sarcastically and made to slip back through the portrait hole again, but suddenly became aware of the presence of Professor Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Florence," he said politely. "Should we sit down for a while?"

I didn't know what to say. "Of course, Professor, but what about..."

"Lunch will have to wait," said Dumbledore curtly. "The matter I'd like to discuss is rather important, I'm afraid. Concerning... Professor Snape."

My heart sank. He knew it. He knew we were going to meet the Dark Lord tonight! Severus would be sacked and I'd be expelled from Hogwarts - twelve weeks before graduation.

"Professor, I -"

He didn't let me finish. "Please listen to what I have to say first, Florence!"

I shut my mouth and listened.

"I am worried about my Potions master," Dumbledore began. "He has been very pale recently, don't you think?"

"He's always been like that...," I started, but Dumbledore interrupted me yet again.

"Don't be ridiculous, Florence. You know him... better than anyone else, I daresay. And I'm sure you agree that there is a difference between a sick - and an eccentric man."

I shrugged. "He might have private problems."

"Without a doubt," said Dumbledore, nodding pensively. "Quite a lot of his relatives have died recently. Not to talk about his own state of health. And he behaves strangely. Seems nervous and worn out. Very... closed."

Once again I got the impression that Dumbledore knew more than he was willing to divulge.

"Well... I don't know about his problems," I said. "I haven't had anything to do with him for years - intimately, I mean."

"Well... yes, of course, that is what I seemed to think," Dumbledore admitted thoughtfully. "So you don't know either... Please forgive my impertinence. I must have got the wrong impression. Well then, are you going to have any lunch today?"

I shook my head.

He rose. When he had reached the portrait hole, however, he turned once again and gave me another one of his unfathomable looks. "Oh, and there's something else."

I gave him my most anticipating, obedient student look.

"Whatever you two are planning to do tonight..."

I held my breath.

"...please make sure your fellow students don't get wind of it."

And he left as silently as he had arrived. I, on the other hand, turned and stormed upstairs, feeling that I had just been ridiculed.


	4. Lord Voldemort

**

Lord Voldemort

**

In the evening I trudged towards Hagrid's Hut, half expecting that Severus had left without me. But there he was, his black cloak wrapped tightly around him, looking as pale as ever, though his eyes were glittering with excited anticipation.

"So you have decided to come," he said and his lips formed an almost invisible smile when he took my hand. "Come on then. There's not much time."

We ran onto the Quidditch pitch and Severus withdrew a small vial from under his robes.

"Drink," he said breathlessly, "but not the lot. That'll do. Give it to me now." He knocked back the rest of the green liquid and gave me a rushed look.

"Get onto the broom," he said while I was feeling my body getting all wobbly. "The effect won't last long. A few minutes, perhaps."

We lifted off the ground without exchanging another word, effortlessly passing the invisible security barriers and soon gliding through the frosty evening's breeze towards a dark-blue horizon. Across the Hogwarts walls, Severus's little _Shooting Star_ went, over the glittering black lake and over the Forbidden Forest, heading towards a part of Great Britain I had never seen before. Almost everything was covered in dark gloom and the wind was howling around my freezing ears. I shivered.

"Lean against my back if you want," Severus said. "I am wrapped in about thirty layers of clothes." And indeed I could feel a thick woollen jumper through his robes when I laid my arms around his familiar waist.

We had been flying for what seemed endless hours when Severus suddenly reduced speed and drew a black piece of cloth from the pocket of his robes.

"Wrap this round your face," he said, handing it to me without turning. "_He_ doesn't want us to recognise each other. ... Of course we often know whom we are talking to," he added as an afterthought, "but often it is rather comfortable to remain anonymous."

I fully agreed and made an effort to combine the two ends of the cloth at the back of my head. Severus pulled some kind of outsized hat with spy-holes over his black hair and accelerated again. The broom was speeding forwards like a bird, right above the trees of a fir forest now, which was still covered in thick, white snow. We had to be in the very North of Scotland.

"Won't be a minute now until we arrive at the building," Severus said with a tremble in his voice I chose to ignore. Then, suddenly, without a warning, he slowed down again and turned around, his expression, of course, not visible because of the mask he was wearing.

"Are you sure you want to come with me? I can still take you back, you know."

I gave him a surprised look.

"Severus," I said, "what is so wrong about it all of a sudden? You used to beg me to come along only a few years ago!"

"Yes... used to," Severus sighed. "Everything seemed easy and under control then..."

"What are you talking about?" I said doubtfully, slightly irritated by the vagueness of his statements. "Do you think I cannot do this?"

He shook his head. "The problem is - you can't just visit one of our meetings. If you decide to join me now, Florence, you're in. There's no turning back."

His expression was one of dead seriousness and I felt a slight confusion rise somewhere inside myself. More than once he had tried to have me on with this tone - with this look. I had usually got the better of him. But was he joking now?

"Are you being serious?" I asked quietly and he nodded.

"You can still change your mind now. But later there's no turning back." I looked into his eyes and for the first time in years recognised, deep inside him, the boy I had known so many years ago. In a somewhat subliminal way, of course, but I felt that the Severus today was still the same person, merely with a lot more experience - wherever it had come from. What had changed him so much? What had happened to us?

"I'll go back if you want me to," I said, "but I don't like it. Why should I? I said I'd come and that's what I want to do." Severus smiled and watched the horizon where the contours of a huge castle slowly appeared out of the twilight.

"I just want you to be sure about it," he said. "Because your decision must be final."

A few minutes later we arrived the castle, which seemed to stare at its late night visitors, gloomily, in an somewhat threatening manner. It took me a while to realise that this had to be the residence of Lucius Malfoy, my secret archenemy. This had to be the infamous Malfoy manor he had been talking about all his life at school. It was when Severus and I crossed the massive drawbridge and the gigantic wooden entrance gates that, for the first time, I felt something like fear. It suddenly became all too clear to me what Severus had been talking about when he had told me that there was no going back. I suppressed a shudder.

Severus seemed to know his way around, since he did not use the doorbell, nor did he ask to be admitted. Since there was no porter anywhere, no one seemed to take any notice of two visitors entering the castle on their own accord.

We entered a narrow building, using a small iron door that was situated at the other end of the inner courtyard, which we had crossed hastily without looking around. From here, a small staircase of massive wood lead to the underground vaults of the building and towards a single, extremely shabby door at the end of the corridor. Severus, who had determinedly approached it at first, hesitated for a second before opening it at last.

I held my breath and cautiously peered into the dark room. The light of the torches revealed a pile of black-cloaked, masked figures and I suddenly remembered that I was wearing a mask as well. The mere thought of it was such a great comfort that I was able to follow Severus into the semidarkness of the room without further hesitation.

The door slammed behind me with a bang and I noticed that the Death Eaters were sitting around the fire in a semicircle, though they didn't seem to be roasting anything. Severus, who took his place next to one of the many figures gave me a sign to take a seat as well. I hurried to follow his advice.

"Where is _he_?" Severus murmured towards the person next to him, who shrugged.

"Hasn't turned up since I arrived."

A quick look in my direction told me that Severus had recognised the man's voice. I, on the other hand, hadn't and continued to stare into the flames, which caused an painful sensation of complete safetly inside. Some of the Death Eaters chatted restrainedly, others stared into the fire like me. Nobody made any sudden movements. Every now and then another masked figure turned up, until the small room was almost bursting. Lord Voldemort would have a hard job entering it, I thought, in case he decided to turn up eventually.

A sudden bolt of lightning that seemed to emerge from the stone ceiling and right into the fireplace pulled me violently into the real world again. A couple of Death Eaters screamed, others jumped to their feet. Most of them, however, seemed to be used to this kind of entrance performance and got calmly to their feet. I got the impression they were silently laughing at the others, was, however, still unable to make out anything behind their masks.

I hadn't jumped or screamed, but my look was obviously a startled one, because Severus took my hand protectively and pressed it slightly against his own, warm body. I looked at him and noticed that his usually grave black eyes had adopted a gleam I had never seen in them before. When we looked back at the fireplace a gaunt figure had risen from the red flames and stepped out of it with a gleam of satisfaction on his snake-like expression. This, without a doubt, was Lord Voldemort.

The Death Eaters formed a semicircle around their Lord, who welcomed each of them individually. I heard the all-too-familiar, slippery voice of Lucius Malfoy, who professed his 'tremendous delight' to encounter his master once more. I recognised some of the other voices as well. There was Nostradamus Travers, whose parents were on friendly terms with my father, and whom I had always played hide-and-seek with as a child. And Mr. Rosier I recognized. Usually, when not masked, well-known face, appearing in the Daily Prophet every other day.

When Voldemort had reached Severus I once again noticed the strange gleam in the young Professor's eyes. Stronger this time, and with a touch of utter devotion.

"It is good to see you," Voldemort said in his unusual, high pitched whisper, "I appreciate your service, young Snape." After that, his eyes rested at my face and a glimpse of surprised recognition was gliding over his face.

"Florence Dyker. Such an unexpected pleasure to have you with us." I wondered what on earth people were wearing masks for, if the Dark Lord mentioned the name of each of them anyway. It was only later that I understood all this secretiveness to be more ritual than necessary on the one hand, and that, on the other hand, there were Death Eaters whom the Dark Lord never addressed directly. Some also never spoke on their own accord.

I remained silent for a few seconds and stared back into the unbending, red eyes in front of me. Lord Voldemort was not only unattractive, but his whole appearance unmistakably resembled a snake. Afraid such a powerful wizard might be able to read minds I quickly banned those thoughts from my memory, however, and continued looking at him, displaying as much devotion on my face as I could muster, but also actually feeling the thrill for which I had come. A pleasant prickle - an awareness to be standing in front of the mightiest wizard of all times.

"Master," I whispered. "To finally face you in person..." Lord Voldemort gave me a very snake-like smile. My words had hit his taste.

"Florence Dyker." He looked at Severus for a brief moment and have a short, hissing laugh. "A Dyker and a Snape - very tasteful, indeed."

And that was it. Still smirking he turned towards the next Death Eater, who flung himself to his knees and kissed the hem of his black robes. "My Lord, such an honour..."

Voldemort gave him a mirthless smile and turned towards the next person in the row. With a shudder I recognised the voice of one of our neighbours. Mrs. Lestrange, a young, black-haired witch, who was the owner of the huge garden where my friends and I had more than once lost our ball - and asked for permission to fetch it.

"Good work, Bella," Voldemort hissed almost inaudibly. "How did you manage the whole lot?"

"Got to know how," Mrs. Lestrange replied at the same level and Voldemort awarded her with an open laugh before turning towards the last Death Eater, being Mrs. Lestrange's reputedly deceased husband without a doubt.

When he had finished the whole lot the Dark Lord summoned a throne-like armchair, sat down and closed his eyes for a moment. The Death Eaters remained silent. No one moved and in the end Lord Voldemort, slowly and calculatingly, opened his gleaming red eyes again. He looked around in a thoroughly satisfied manner.

"The world belongs to us," he finally announced. "I have seen it."

An excited muttering raised among the Death Eaters. They did not understand him.

"Since the beginning of this year," Lord Voldemort explained, "we have accomplished more than ever before in such a short amount of time. You, my group of closest followers, have achieved more than I would ever have expected of you, and I am therefore convinced that, powered by our determination and strength of mind, we will rule the world in less than a year... or at least the part that is worth ruling."

Some Death Eaters laughed nervously.

"However," said Voldemort, suddenly assuming an icy undertone, "we cannot afford to rest on our laurels just yet. There's still enough to do. We need to find allies in other countries as well who are going to support me with loyalty and strength. This is our job for the following weeks. This is going to be our aim."

The Death Eaters applauded. Lord Voldemort basked in his own glory at first, then continued to speak. He gave a detailed explanation on what he intended to do and how. He delegated and offered some kind of reward for those, who achieved the most. The atmosphere livened up and I was more and more carried away by the seemingly endless exaltation of everyone else. I cheered on Lord Voldemort's words along with them and listened eagerly to learn about his plans for the future.

In the middle of all the excitement the mood suddenly changed. The Dark Lord's voice became more dangerous - more focused - and the Death Eaters' cheering voices were glowing with devotion. There was some kind of music, apparently coming from the underground, and the celebration headed ecstatically towards its climax. What happened then came as a sudden blow. Ruthless and unforeseen.

Nothing around me seemed particularly clear. I was pushed forward and suddenly stood in front of the Dark Lord himself, who gave me a snake-like grin. I couldn't think of anything but smile back and allow myself to get carried away by the soft seduction that invaded my body cell by cell. Through all the voices, the music and the heat of the fire the Dark Lord actually seemed to _turn_ into a snake... into a basilisk of unimaginable size, which lead me from one ecstasy into the next. My legs weren't working properly and I had the distinct impression that my head banged against the floor at some point. However, I felt neither pain nor confusion. I didn't feel anything for a while, apart from boundless, eternal satisfaction.

And then the bite came.

I shrieked in pain. My heart had stopped pounding for a second and my head was suddenly clear again. I saw a bunch of stars flicker around my head and felt... my arm burning. For the split of a second I thought there was actually a snake. That it had actually bitten me. But at that moment I saw the Dark Lord in his usual, human shape, standing in front of me, holding his wand at ease. His red eyes were boring into me, seeming to flip through every layer of my brain, which doubled the pain coming, very recognisably now, from the inner side of my left forearm. Pulling myself together I looked down and saw the flaming red mark, which had burned right into my flesh and not only parted my _heart_ from the rest of my body for a second, but also, it seemed, my soul. I had got a glimpse of what the eternal purgatory had to be like. Shortly after that, I lost consciousness.


	5. A New Understanding

**

A New Understanding

**

When I woke up the next morning I was not able to open my eyes at first. I had curiously detailed memories of the previous evening, and I could clearly remember who I was and why I felt sick. The only thing I didn't know was, where I was at the moment, and I was not sure if I was too keen to find out. I didn't dare move even an inch, afraid that the hallucinations might return... and the pain. So I waited and listened. I do not think I had ever before so longed to hear Severus's voice so much, as he seemed to be the only one left to trust.

But nobody came.

I therefore decided to open my eyes just an inch - a decision I regretted almost instantly. Could anything be worse than waking up in the presence of the devil or his spawn on earth, also known as _the Dark Lord_? I sighed, watching the enormous, all too familiar Slytherin banner that stretched over the small room's entire ceiling. I was in Severus's private apartment at Hogwarts, lying in his bed.

I considered this situation for a while. Was this any better than being eaten by snakes or slaughtered by a group of fanatical Death Eaters? I heard a door slam and decided that it was not. At this moment Severus entered the room. To see me in good physical shape and awake again seemed to be a great relief for him, as he set up his usual smirk at once and moved towards his desk that was standing near the entrance, fiddling with some parchments and a book.

"First problem solved," he muttered, producing several batches of parchment at once. "The next question being how we are going to get you to the hospital-wing, of course. Unseen." I didn't reply, but closed my eyes again in protest. He did not notice.

"Come on, Florence," he said irritably, apparently without even looking up. "Move! We haven't got all day."

I refused.

It was only now Severus realised that I had closed my eyes again. He was confused and approached his four-poster at a snail's pace.

"Florence," he whispered, "breakfast."

"Very funny," I growled, opening one eye very slowly. "I'm not leaving until I hear a damn good explanation for what happened last night."

He sighed. "I feared you wouldn't understand. But now it is too late, remember? You are one of us, once and for all." He lifted his left sleeve carefully, exposing the Dark Mark, which looked nearly as threatening in the semidarkness of the room as it had the night before at the Malfoy manor. I thoughtfully examined my own forearm and smiled weakly. "Not bad," I murmured. "A secret symbol of power."

"It is a sign," said Severus. "We use it to distinguish each other. Only the Death Eaters know it is there and we need to hide it carefully, Florence, in order to keep the secret." I nodded merely and tried to sit up without putting any weight on my arm.

"What time is it?"

"Lunchtime," said Severus casually.

A gasp of terror emerged my lungs before I could help it. "What? I've missed two subjects already?" Severus gave me an idle nod.

"We'll make that twenty points from Gryffindor and three hours detention, shall we?" He grinned.

"It's Saturday," I snorted, not without relief. "Sadist!"

"How do _you_ know?" he replied earnestly. I grinned. It hurt.

"Don't make me laugh! I've got a headache. And my arm hurts, too."

Severus bent forward to examine the Dark Mark that was glowing menacingly on my forearm, seeming to burn even further into the flesh as we were talking.

"It will be well again soon," he said. "And it'll turn black eventually, just like mine."

"Show it to me," I demanded. "I want to have another look."

He stuck out his arm and I seized it.

"It is _his_ way of summoning us," Severus explained. "To the meetings, that is. I can always give you a lift, of course. And you won't be able to leave Hogwarts unseen without my help anyway, given that one cannot disapparate here. He knows that, of course, which is why he gives us enough time for the broom ride." He made a short pause. "But you cannot apparate anyway, can you? Have you even had an attempt on the license?"

I shook my head without speaking. My eyes were still fixed on his Dark Mark, until he covered it with his black sleeve again.

"We need to hurry," he stated now. "If you are not in the hospital wing by the end of lunch, Dumbledore will want an explanation."

"What are we waiting for then?" I said eagerly, jumping out of bed without thinking. "Let's go."

"You might want to get dressed first," Severus advised, his lips curling. "In case we meet someone in the corridors."

I blushed and grabbed my clothes. "Do you know what's most confusing for me?" I suddenly said, wrapping my robes around me, layer by layer. "About the Dark Lord, I mean?"

Severus shook his head.

"I'll do it again," I said firmly. "I want to come again! It is not only the Dark Mark that binds us - there's something else."

Severus's expression changed into a rare smile and he nodded eagerly. "You will be very valuable for us. I suppose Lucius is as delighted as I am that you finally joined."

I wanted to tell him that I cared Jack shit about Lucius Malfoy's opinion, but he looked so happy that I changed my mind. Instead we made our way out of the dungeons and towards the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey was already waiting, looking extremely sour and disapproving.

"Well, you haven't been exaggerating, Professor Snape," she said. "She looks terrible! How can you possibly have done that to yourself in a single night, young lady?"

"It is nothing," I defended myself hastily. "It's only my... period." The nurse raised an eyebrow and disapprovingly shook her head. She then showed me to one of the beds and made me lie down.

"I know this kind of disease," she said coldly. "It is called 'exhaustion' and is caused by excessive sexual intercourse involving certain potions of one particular category." At these words she was giving Severus an especially nasty look and motioned him to leave the room.

"Any... part of your body that hurts?" she required matter-of-factly, feeling my forehead, several parts of my throat and my shoulders. "Or are you just... exhausted?"

I hurried to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with me.

"Well then," she said, pulling up my left sleeve with an unexpected jolt, "we'll..."

I gasped, decades too late, and grabbed by forearm. But it was gone. The arm was white, Madame Pomfrey, on the other hand, was displeased.

"Don't make such a fuss," she snapped. "I won't be taking your arm off. Just checking."

"Sorry," I muttered, at a loss what better to say.

"Drink this," she snapped, showing towards me a small bottle containing a suspiciously blue liquid. "It will help you unwind."

For the next few hours she made me swallow disgusting liquids that caused me to sleep deeply and without any nightmares.

Around lunchtime my friends Jenny and Chris came for a visit. Chris actually looked a bit worried and make it pretty clear that the whole of Gryffindor was informed by now that I had not spent the night in my own dormitory. The two girls talked incessantly about ruthlessness and a lack of responsibility, until I finally told them I was tired and that they'd have to leave. When they had gone I decided that it was time to be well again and left the hospital wing, not without acquiring Madame Pomfrey's hesitant consent, of course. On my way to the Gryffindor common room I came across a few giggling first years, who aroused my attention for no specific reason. Then, however, I met the last person I had expected to run into...

"Florence! What a pleasant surprise."

I was standing in front of James Potter, a former student, who was about two years older than me and had been good and trusted friend for the most time of my school life. A Gryffindor, of course. Severus's archenemy.

"Hello, James," I said smilingly. "What are you doing here at Hogwarts?"

"Oh - business, honey, business," he replied in a casual voice. "Ministry of Magic stuff - top secret, of course, as usual!"

"As usual," I repeated and laughed. "Is Lily with you?"

James shook his head, giving me a look of mischievous secrecy. "Guess why. Here's a hint: She's in hospital right now..." I raised my head in surprise.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Oh - nothing," James grinned, exposing a row of flawlessly white teeth. "It's a mere precaution - a medical check-up in a way."

I began to see light at last. "You haven't really carried it out!"

"Certainly," James grinned. "Though, more specifically, we haven't carried it out just yet, and I am not exactly involved in the actual process. Not that I mind..."

"You have always been fanatically in love with children," I laughed. "I'll keep my fingers crossed then. When's it due?"

"Oh, not until the end of July - early August, perhaps."

"Will it be a boy or a girl?" I pressed on curiously. James shrugged.

"We'll see," he said. "It's going to be a surprise."

I pinched his forearm in a playful manner, which made him provide me with yet another mischievous grin. "Come on - I can't imagine you haven't at least had a quick look when Lily was asleep." He laughed.

"Well, she's not any better. Okay - to be honest, we've both broken our word not to look. And we are both too scared to confess it to each other. Meaning we don't have a name for the little chap yet."

"A boy," I said avidly, "I am _so_ jealous."

"Well, we'll see _who_ is going to be jealous after two months of nappy-changing, staying awake all night and a couple of baby's diseases," James remarked, trying to look pitiable. I giggled and we turned around a corner into a busier corridor, meeting a couple of younger students who gave us indifferently polite looks.

When I rose my head I saw Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall coming from the opposite end of the corridor, apparently involved in a vivid discussion. They spotted James after only a few seconds and approached us quickly.

"James! Thank goodness you're here," said Professor McGonagall, unable, it seemed, to keep herself under control.

"Did you know about the Bones?" Dumbledore asked while seeming almost as upset as Professor McGonagall, quite uncharacteristically. "Did you know there has been an attack on them? Weeks ago?"

"Merlin, no!" James said, looking alarmed. "Another one?"

"We must -" McGonagall started, but Dumbledore interrupted her quickly and nodded in my direction. "Let's return to your office," he said quickly. "James, if you would like to come with us..."

"Of course," said James. "Excuse me, Florence... I'll see you at the dinner table, I suppose?" I nodded and a few second later the small group had vanished so that I was standing alone in the vast corridor. I spent the remaining time until dinner catching up on my school work and making up with Jenny and Chris who still seemed to be a bit offended about what I had said in the hospital wing.

Before entering the Great Hall for lunch I went quickly down to the dungeons to look for Severus whom I had not seen at any point of the day. The only one I met, however, was Filch, who threatened with his usual detention if I intended to keep him from sweeping the corridors. I therefore headed back towards the Great Hall a little sooner than planned. A couple of students were already here, chatting cheerfully to each other or finishing this afternoon's lessons' homework in a hurry. I caught sight of one of Severus's former companions, Duncan Baddock, whose parents, I remembered, had also been at the Death Eater meeting. He was talking to a group of Slytherins whom I knew all very well, since I had spent lots of time in their commonroom at Severus's and my time as a couple.

"Hullo Florence," I was welcomed. "Sit down, will ya?" I knew how unusual their friendly attitude towards me as a Gryffindor seemed to the other students, but I had been thinking for years how much happier I could have been if the Sorting Hat had placed me in Slytherin, not least, because I had to a great extend taken the position of the Gryffindor outsider over the years.

I sat down casually opposite Sarah Brown and the twins Bob and Tracy Pritchard, who were watching me with some interest. Very Slytherin-like, namely without exchanging a lot of useless gossip before coming straight to the point, I learned what was nagging them only seconds later.

"They say it's being hot down in the dungeons again," Duncan remarked dryly. "What about it, eh?" I gave him a blank stare. A few seconds went by until I understood and gasped. The Slytherins grinned and put on meaningful expressions. I realised that this would need some high-quality explanation and did some very quick thinking.

"Sadly not," I finally said. "I have come to the conclusion that Severus knows _exactly_ how to keep his work and his private life separate. I made this discovery when I was scrubbing the staircase until midnight the other day, because of a simple accident in Potions."

"You've been scrubbing for _four hours_?" Sarah said disbelievingly. "Now, _that's _what I call sadism. Even Severus is not usually _that_ heartless. Though - come to think of it..."

The others laughed. I smiled weakly, in an effort to look pitiable.

"How true. Anyway, the reason why I ended up in the hospital wing was a mere circulatory disorder. Jenny and Chris have been making up their own versions of the story. Well, you know what they're like, of course."

This seemed to satisfy even Sarah.

"Your _accident_ in Potions, though...," said Duncan after a short while. "Is it true you've blown up _another_ cauldron?"

I grunted and denied her the satisfaction of an answer. Everyone knew about my extraordinary talent concerning Potions, which required a certain amount of precision, such as the preparation of ingredients, for example. I was well aware of that.

"That is probably the reason why I was sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin," I said. "Cause I'm rubbish with Potions." And indeed Potions was traditionally a subject, where the most careful and ambitious students, Slytherins namely, and sometimes Hufflepuffs, got their top marks.

"Are you going to eat with us?" Duncan asked, but I shook my head.

"We've been through this - fifth grade... Professor Bastard, remember?"

Professor Bastard, our former Charms teacher, was actually called Professor Bernhard Mustard. He had retired the previous year, so that Professor Flitwick had taken his job, which meant that the Defence post had been vacant when Severus had applied. Dumbledore, however, had obviously thought Potions might be better for Severus and placed him there, for reasons that totally escaped me.

It had been in one of Professor Mustard's lessons that Severus and I had attempted to sit together at one table for the first and last time, learning that some teachers showed even less acceptance for our unusual friendship than our fellow students.

"Lions with lions," I mimicked the old man to dig up reminiscences, pointing a fork at Sarah's chest pretending it was the late Professor's wand, "and snakes with snakes. All this house confusion is giving me such a headache." Duncan and the others laughed heartily.

"McGonagall is teaching the exact opposite, isn't she?" Sarah remarked.

In the meantime the Great Hall slowly filled with students and I decided that my already bad reputation might profit from me switching over to the Gryffindor table now, where only one student was sitting just yet.

Very soon, however, James Potter appeared as promised walked straight towards me, sitting down at the Gryffindor table in a handsomely casual way.

"All right?" I said. "Were you able to help the headmaster and his deputy?" James sighed.

"It is so terrible. You'll probably read it in the newspapers tomorrow - Edgar and Mary-Ann Bones have been murdered. Dark magic, naturally!"

I tried to look shocked. "Oh - the chairwoman of the Community of Magic Special Cases? And... and her husband?"

"Exactly," said James. "They have been working for the ministry - undercover. Secret Aurors they were, in a way. Two of the Dark Lord's most dangerous enemies... it's such a great loss... What do you think their death means for our resistance movement? And hardly anyone got wind of it - not even Dumbledore, though he is usually the first one to know about those things. I nodded slowly, cautiously. If James knew I had watched the deed...

"So - who's going to do their job now?" I asked, but as expected, James refused to share the secret.

"I cannot tell anyone," he replied. "Not even someone as trustworthy as you."

"What are you going to do next, then?" I questioned him further and his face lit.

"Fetching Lily from the hospital, of course."

I gave him an acknowledging smile.

"Do you know whom she's sharing her room with?" James suddenly asked. "It's someone you know, I think. She's having a child as well.'

I thought about it for a while. However, the only family in question I could think of right now were former Slytherins and therefore not likely to be sharing a hospital floor with Lily Evans - no, Potter, of course - let alone the same room. So I shrugged and gave James a politely curious look.

"Molly Weasley is having her sixth boy," James informed me. "They are going to call him Ron."

"The Weasleys, of course!" I exclaimed. "How are they?"

"I think they're all well," said James. "If she's lucky, Molly will have her baby the same day she was born. Though, of course, at the moment she's not too happy not to be able to be with her family. The baby's due any day now," he added.

"Curious," I muttered. "Why hasn't anyone thought of a way of using magic to give birth to a child? It'd be so much easier."

James nodded. "Well, it _has_ been attempted for thousands of years. But do you want to know the results of those experiments? You've got to check out a book called 'Fabulous Creatures And Their Origins'... Horrible beings - some of them at least."

We had been talking about babies, Molly Weasley, Lily and lots of other things when I realised that almost everyone else had left the Great Hall. I hadn't even noticed that Severus's place at the staff table had remained empty, which I now noticed with astonishment.

On my way out I passed Professor McGonagall and was going to ask her if anything had happened, but she anticipated my question saying: "In his room, Florence. He wasn't feeling very well, so he decided to skip lunch!"

"Can I..."

"No, Florence," my Head of House said severely. "There're enough rumours already, even without you visiting your Potions teacher after dinner in his private rooms. I can assure you that his condition is not life-threatening. I am sure it is nothing grave - just a simple indigestion."

She was right, of course. By the following morning Severus was well again. I only saw him at breakfast, however, because Chris and Jenny persuaded me to join them at their trip to Hogsmeade. Since all of us had turned eighteen by now we could leave the castle whenever we felt like it. The teachers, of course, never grew tired of advising their students, not to leave the wizarding village under any circumstances. The surrounding area was crowded with battling wizards and witches, Hogsmeade, however, was lying in the middle of all this commotion, seemingly ignorant of the things that threatened to shatter our world to pieces. The village was peaceful and quiet as ever and when strolling through the little shops and wasting all our money on joke articles I suddenly realised how blissful I had been feeling for the past few days. In fact, I felt thoroughly content for the first time in weeks. Even the horrifying image of my mother and father, fallen in battle, had faded from my memory now I thought about it and I had not been lonely for ages.

"This is all down to Severus," I thought. "Because of him I belong to the Death Eaters now. To a group of real friends who think I am one of them... well - I am one of them, I suppose." And with an almost imperceptible movement I stroked the Dark Mark at my left forearm which started pounding very softly, to my great delight.

Late in the evening, I was sitting in the Gryffindor common room all by myself, trying to understand Newt Scamander's definitions of the most dangerous dragon species, but I could not concentrate. A spider was sitting at the edge of the fireplace and stared at me in an almost provoking way. Every step she made increased my interest in her and I wondered if I could continue with the experiment I had started during Potions. Of course, Severus had warned me not to use any of the Unforgivable Curses in public, but there was no public, and at long last I decided to give it a try. A green light, a whizzing sound and the spider stumbled, turned and stopped moving.

"Brilliant," I whispered. "It works!"

A sensation of great satisfaction caught me and I jumped excitedly through the common room. A squeal of pain, however, interrupted my excitement almost promptly. I had hit Antonio, Chris's cat. A fat, spoilt, boring animal which I hated through a natural instinct. A cruel idea came to my mind. Could I possibly... or was he too big? I had to find out. Slowly, dangerously I approached the cat and came to a halt just before his paws. I raised my wand... and lowered it again. No. I could not do this to Chris. She loved her cat beyond reason.

I pulled back my fringe with my wand and wiped off the sweat.

"This hair needs cutting," I told the cat, and a sudden an idea struck me. "I might just change your hair. Make it curly or something. Oh, Chris is so going to hate me for this."

I raised my wand again, more determined this time.

"Horrible creature," I whispered. "Horrible, disgusting, annoying creature. You deserve to die." And suddenly it was all too easy. It was just a spell, after all, nothing more. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

A flash of blinding green light filled the room.

"This is true witchcraft," I beamed, stared at the motionless cat. "Nothing like the rubbish they're teaching us in Charms or Transfiguration. - But I suppose you can't just stay there." I threw the cat's dead body into the fireplace and raised my wand one more time.

_"Kadavre Inflamare!"_

The cat vanished in a huge, greenish jet of flame. I smiled, captured by the strange beauty of death and put away my wand. Deciding that I would, one day, tell Severus about this, I walked up the stairs to the dormitory, deciding to better go and get some sleep.

A few weeks later my parents were buried - or rather those parts of their bodies that had not been blown up by Aurors during the fight. I attended the funeral, receiving a special permission from Professor Dumbledore to take a few days off. Luckily no one had asked me to identify the bodies, nor had I requested to see them again. It was bad enough that I had to turn up and listen to the priest. Mind you, I liked the sermon, but the Muggles had clearly not been told how exactly my parents' had died, which made their condolences sound slightly absurd to my ears.

"Life can be so terrifyingly short," the priest said. "However, if it has been satisfying - who are we to complain?"

I nodded imperceptibly. Mourning was useless. Living was useless. Dying was useless as well. I hated the thought of it. I hated the people who had taken my parents away from me. And... I stopped for a moment.

A penetrating image came to my mind. A massacre. The murder of two people who left behind a daughter and a grandchild. Two people fighting for their lives, two people dying in vain... in vain... in vain... I shuddered. How was Severus any different from those who had murdered my parents? How was I?

I glanced around. A young Muggle, about my age, gave me an insinuating glance. He was probably really stupid. Perhaps even a bully. He looked it, certainly. The child's wide grin annoyed me for some reason and I gripped my wand, firmly, baring my teeth as I did. Magic filled my body and moved into the wand in sweet seduction and anticipation. I trembled.

"Kill him!"

The order was definite. I had heard it before. Ever since Severus and I had begun to actually act upon Lord Voldemort's orders and do a lot of uncomplicated jobs for him, his voice had followed me around and given instructions. Simple instructions like: "Make him tell you the truth!" "Make her understand!" "Get her!" or "Kill him!" I had not once failed to obey.

Feeling the magic inside my hand I looked down and loosened my grip. This was not the time, nor the place. My parents were dead - about to be buried. What use would it be? What use was in the death of a useless, pathetic Muggle? My powers exceeded his by far.

The Muggle winked at me and I decided to give him a rather unpleasant, cold sneer, which I had seen with Severus and decided to copy it in a fitting moment. I succeeded. He did not look at me again. What had Severus said back in 1975?

"There is no need to kill a person if you can scare the guts out of them with a simple glance." I smiled. He had been right - as usual. But hadn't things changed? What would the Dark Lord say to this if he knew? I did not expect Severus had told him about his theory. I did not expect anything.

The funeral did not last long. I was the only one who stayed behind. The graveyard was empty now and I was alone with my grief.

"Mourning is useless," I told a picture of my parents which had been in my pocket all day. "Everything is useless. Even taking pictures." I tossed the picture into the grave and regretted it at an instant. My wand got it back for me.

"I feel empty," I told the coffins. "I feel abandoned. I feel lonely. Just like when the hurricane was about to kill me. And Severus... I feel bad about what I have seen, but there is no way back... and I do not want to go anywhere. I do not want to do anything anymore..." I paused. What was the use of living if there was nothing to live for?

"There is nothing left for me," I whispered. "Nothing except... Severus."

And I realised for the first time how tremendously important Severus Snape had become for me during these last few weeks. How much our little quarrels, our discussions, our power struggles... how much his mere presence had meant to me... and still did.

For the first time in my life I realised that I did not and had never lived in vain. For there was a person who shared it with me.

"At least _my_ life is worth living!" I shouted at my dead parents. "What about yours?" And with an unexpected, horrible impulse my sorrow suddenly got on to me. At long last I was finally blessed with the gift of wholehearted, uncontrollable crying.


	6. A Change of Mind

**

A Change of Mind

**

The following weeks felt like I had become an entirely different person. I was less temperamental, almost looked forward to the exams and most of all I had stopped killing every insect within my reach. Even Severus noticed something in my behaviour and if he was worried he did a great job pretending that he was not. In the middle of March on a Friday evening we had our first unofficial end-of-school-celebration in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. As usual, only specially invited sixth years, parents and teachers were allowed in, since the event had been carefully planned and put into action by students of our year - not teachers. This was our way of saying goodbye to Hogwarts.

"I would especially like to welcome our guest of honour, Professor Dumbledore," Stanley Jordan, a good-looking, black boy with dreadlocks, spoke into an imaginary microphone. "Also I'd like to register my astonishment... erm," he coughed, "_endless delight_, of course... about the huge number of teachers who're with us this year." Everyone laughed. I knew, however, that he was being more or less serious. At events like this most teachers were usually too afraid to turn up, since they were likely to be either mimicked or asked to do participate in all sorts of more or less refined games. Not this year, though. Jordan and his friends had carefully built up the show without ridiculing anyone too much, in order to persuade a fairly large number of teachers into coming.

Jordan, of course, was a genius. He could make people laugh effortlessly. His commentary was interesting, fluent, and most of all entertaining. The atmosphere inside the classroom was exceptionally good and Jordan did not seem to get tired of pacing up and down the improvised stage, telling jokes or mimicking famous wizards and witches one after another.

"For the first time in years, I have been told," he said with a broad grin, "there're enough teachers present so that we can give out a few awards, such as..." Juliana Brown did a drum roll, "...this year's Favourite-Teacher-Award," Jordan continued, "which goes to Professor Flitwick." Everyone clapped. Flitwick entered the stage looking embarrassed and flattered at the same time and Jordan presented him a book. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"An imaginative present, I must say," he muttered. "Imaginative and _unexpected_..."

"Well, _you_ won't ever have to worry about the Favourite-Teacher-Award anyway." I told him, causing him to give me a appreciative grin.

"True."

"Next," Jordan exclaimed, "there are some awards we think members of our year should receive." The audience fell silent. Some people grinned. They knew what was about to come. Jordan and his friends would definitely not honour those, who were going to get an official award for their achievements at the end-of-year banquet anyway.

"The most frequent truant in our year," Jordan said, "is Josh Keaton. During seven years at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry he missed 159 lessons without EVER having an excuse for it." Everyone clapped and cheered. Josh Keaton bowed and strutted towards the stage. I saw Dumbledore and Professor Lewis exchange a few words. Flitwick, sitting at a chair next to Severus bend down and said, "I remember being actually afraid of the kind of excuse he would come up with in the end." Severus nodded. His face, however, retained its usual coldness.

"Suzan Grint of Slytherin," Jordan drowned out the applause, "Terrence Dawson of Ravenclaw, Cathy Fisher of Hufflepuff. Could you come up here?"

They came.

"Well, well, well...", Jordan said, "You three and I have much in common." Some people giggled. Others looked puzzled or anticipating. "We are to blame," Jordan explained, "for the highest number of the points our houses - lost. Sorry, guys."

The audience burst into applause and laughter and Suzan, Terrence and Cathy grinned apologetically. Dumbledore chuckled into his white beard and even Severus let slip a small, sardonic grin at Jordan's self-irony and put his arm around my shoulders.

"We'll pin up a full statistic of won and lost points at the notice-boards in the common rooms," Jordan explained. "They're awfully long and complicated. But really funny. There is, however, one teacher we'd like to give an extra award as far as the House Cup is concerned."

He waited until the audience had fallen completely silent again.

"One of the teachers," he explained, "has NEVER taken a single point from any of the four houses. Only ever awarded them. The Fairest-Teacher-Award goes to... Professor Lewis!" This time most students clapped and cheered and Professor Lewis took his prize with a thankful smile. When he was about to leave the stage, however, Jordan grabbed his arm. "Wait a second, Professor, I am afraid you'll have to take yet another award if that is okay with you."

I grinned. So did Professor Lewis.

"As it happens," Jordan said, "most students' favourite subject was Defence Against the Dark Arts. I am very sorry, but you'll have to take credit for that, too, even if you have only been with us for a year. You have magicked yourself straight into people's hearts, Professor."

Some students nodded in agreement. Some people clapped again and Professor Lewis suddenly seemed very touched.

"Thank you," he said. "I have enjoyed our lessons and won't ever forget you. I know exactly how you feel - I am sorry to go, too."

The room fell silent.

"You... are leaving?" Jordan enquired. Lewis nodded. "Sadly yes. I have been offered a job in Transylvania which I cannot reject."

Jordan considered this for a while.

"You're in for another award then," he said slowly, "for the fifth _Defence_ teacher in a row who did not last more than a year." Some students giggled. Dumbledore nodded appreciatively. Severus grinned. I felt his hand resting almost casually on my shoulder and I could not think of anything but my feelings at my parents' grave. What great comfort was his presence at this moment...

"Our next award," Jordan continued when everyone had calmed down again, "goes to Florence Dyker." People clapped and I stared at him in disbelief.

"Don't look like you hadn't expected that," Jordan said. "Just come and collect it!"

"What is it for?" I demanded to know. "You would not be awarding lack of common sense, would you?"

Some people laughed.

"No, but thanks for the idea," Jordan said cheerfully. "I am sure our sixth years will appreciate..." A cheerful giggle filled the room and I made up my mind eventually, climbing the stage to receive my award, whatever it was going to be.

"Florence," Jordan explained, "receives an award for the most time spent the least popular way there is at Hogwarts. Over the years, she has spent precisely 197 hours in detention."

I heard laughter and applause.

"Thanks," I said with an embarrassed grin and turned to leave the stage again.

"But there is something else we would like to give you, Florence," Jordan said quickly, with a mischievous smile. "We'd like to award you a medal." I raised an eyebrow and looked at him rather suspiciously.

"What for?"

"Read for yourself!" he said mysteriously and handed me a huge, golden self-made paper-medal. "_Award for the extraordinary achievement,_" I read, "_of 249 shattered cauldrons in seven years._"

A snort of laughter, clearly belonging to Severus, broke the silence and caused a wave of giggling, especially among the younger students. They were very obviously not used to this kind of outburst from their austere Potions master.

"Calm down!" Jordan said grinningly. "We have a lot of medals left, though I must say this was the only one we unanimously decided to give out."

I smiled and curtsied.

"Thanks." I said again. "And apologies to everyone who involuntarily tested my potions for me in all those years." And I sat down again, noticing a warm feeling rise inside myself when Severus curiously examined my medal, automatically pulling me into a weird sort of half-embrace again as he did.

Later, when most of the teachers and, of course, the students had long retired to their dormitories, Severus and I were strolling along the corridors, passing empty classrooms, rattling armours and cheerfully waving portraits. We also met Peeves, the poltergeist, who gave us a nasty smile and started yelling all sorts of insults. We, however, chose to ignore him and continued our way towards the dungeon stairs, were we finally came to a halt.

"Well," said Severus. "You must be rather tired... or would you care for a small glass of butterbeer?"

"I am _sure_ Miss Dyker is _very_ tired and needs to proceed to Gryffindor tower without delay!" a very sharp voice came out of the darkness. We jumped. Right behind us, Professor McGonagall appeared as if out of thin air. She had a well-known, extremely disapproving look on her face, which told me that I was in severe trouble.

"It is not June yet," she barked. "There are another three months to go! Are you aware of that?" I gave her a puzzled look. Severus, however, understood immediately. He presented an uneasy grin, but tried to look very grown-up when saying, "I merely offered Miss Dyker a _drink_, Professor McGonagall. Surely..."

"Well, _Professor Snape_," McGonagall interrupted. "You might want to consider the Ministry's opinion about the nightly exchange of 'liquids' in the Hogwarts dungeons next time. After you, Miss Dyker."

Severus hesitated. "You are probably right," he remarked coldly after a second, ignoring the surprised look at McGonagall's face - and mine. "Some rest will do me so much good. I don't suppose I should fall asleep when _my_ house wins the Quidditch cup tomorrow morning." And with an ironic bow he glided down the staircase towards his private chambers at the end of the dungeon corridor. I threw a curious look at Professor McGonagall. Her expression was easy enough to read. Severus had hit the bull's eye.

"Heaven knows, I do think he has got a point," she said almost regretfully, but suddenly remembered where she was again and gave me a very stern look. "Do you by any chance remember our conversation earlier this year?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes, but..."

"And you do realize that this is serious business?"

"Yes, Professor, but..."

"There are rules one cannot bend, I'm afraid," she said. "No exceptions are to be made, not even for unusual couples like yourselves."

"But we are not..." McGonagall raised her hand.

"You will return to your bedroom before midnight," she said, giving me a scrutinising look. "I want it understood that, should I receive knowledge that you have not spent the rest of the night in your own bed, I will take legal actions against Professor Snape." I gave her a very confused look. Then, slowly, I realised what this meant.

"Thank you," I stammered but Professor McGonagall had already climbed the stairs and disappeared from my sight again. I, on the other hand, turned and headed down the same corridor in which Severus had vanished.

Severus's private quarters were guarded by the portrait of a European nobleman, dressed in glittering black robes, whose name, I recalled, was Lord Krolock. The man on the painting seemed fast asleep, until I stood right in front of him, wondering how on earth I was going to get in. Very unexpectedly, however, the dark man opened his eyes and smiled.

"Miss Dyker," he said in an astonishingly sociably way, "what a rare pleasure to see you at this time of night..."

I had hardly any time to be surprised about his most unusual hospitality, since he practically shoved me into the dark, rectangle room, where the only light came from a small bowl in which a silvery liquid distantly shimmered.

"Probably one of his scientific experiments." I thought and groped my way along towards another door. I had suddenly the strong impression of reliving some moment of my past, and it took me a while to realize that this was just an ordinary déja-vu. Then, slowly and reluctantly, I opened the door and stepped into the complete darkness of Severus's bedroom. Not even his outline was visible, but I heard his typical, even breathing from the other end of the room and approached him silently. In front of his four-poster bed I came to a halt, stood there for the split of a second and, after that, simply kneeled down. Our faces were now only a few inches apart - I could feel a warm puff of air in my face and took a deep breath myself. Then I moved forwards. Touched him with my lips. Careful, inquiringly... First his cheeks, then his hooked nose... and finally his lips. He let it happen. Our noses touched and slowly, gradually he raised his head, hesitated for another second and finally returned my kiss very gently - almost naturally.

Severus does not think much of broad conversation. He is no Prince Charming and would certainly not come to his princess's rescue when she is locked a sky-scraping tower. Strictly speaking, he is much more the person who stops under her window, requesting whether it isn't rather draughty up there. Severus is a cynic who has covered his strengths well under a great deal of highly unpleasant layers. But I knew what he was like. Better, perhaps, than everyone else. And I was like him: a desperate warrior, longing for a glimpse of light. We belonged together - tonight at least, and in many of the following ones.

No one noticed. I was always back in Gryffindor before midnight. My thoughts, though, remained in the dungeons after this evening, where Severus and I had finally overcome the barrier - the last remaining barrier - between us.

As time went by, most of my fellow students became aware that the N.E.W.T.s were, in fact, not too far away now. I felt a serious lack of confidence concerning my final exams, but could not bring myself to actually work for them either. One of my classmates had already been promised a leading position within the Ministry of Magic and most of the others had learned to disapparate over the past year. Personally, I felt that I had neither the strength nor the time for this, and I kept telling myself that I had been too involved in my studies, which at least was not a total lie.

And then the day arrived. I decided to do my best and be happy about it, which saved me half the trouble. Professor Sprout, one of the younger teachers teaching Herbology, was actually so impressed by my cheerful expression during the exam that she gave me a passing grade before I even had the chance to list all the herbs one can use to cure dandruff. Herbology, however, was not the examination I had dreaded for ages, the subject that gave me regular nightmares, although I had tried my best to succeed in it. The only subject I was (admittedly) almost certain to flunk was _Potions_...

To get an idea of what kind of problem I had here, one has to understand requirements of this subject. On the one hand, during those seven years at school one has to learn about eighteen thousand potion ingredients by heart. It is furthermore required that one can arrange them in categories and thus predict their effect in several different kinds of potions. This only works, however, if one has a detailed idea of the nature of those eighteen thousand ingredients. So an abnormally well-trained brain is required above everything. Of course, for the eventual preparation a considerable amount of magical skill is needed as well, just like in any other subject. Many potions can actually only be concocted if you have your wand at ready. Even if Severus does not like to admit it - a bit of wandwaving will provide almost any correctly brewed potion with the desired effect.

Finally, most importantly one should say, there is the preparation of the ingredients. The necessity of complete accuracy and the ability to blindly react the exactly right moment cause many people to think that brewing potions is really more art than science. I, for instance, have been declined both qualities in nature. In fact, I know exactly why _Severus_ of all has always been outstanding in Potions. I know why Slytherins traditionally achieve the best results in this subject and I am fully aware of what I have always been doing wrong.

All this knowledge was not exceedingly helpful, however, when I entered the dungeon vaults, in which all the students were waiting to be called in separately, half an hour before my exam, sweating and shaking all over. Jenny seemed to be the only one who understood completely what I was going through. She had a similar torment to live through, though it was not Potions but Transfiguration she feared. I was in fact quite surprised about the amount of attention she offered, actually taking me into her arms, looking straight into my eyes and saying, "You can do it. He can't fail you. He won't!"

I nodded, but my hands were still shaking. Of course Severus would help me as much as he could, but there were some things I would definitely need to do on my own. Unfortunately, preparing the ingredients, at least partly, was certain to be one of them. Naturally, Jenny knew about that as well, so I did not reply and merely pressed her comforting arm as appreciatively as I could. A few minutes later she had to leave for another exam, though, and I was on my own for the rest of the time.

I did not have to wait very long now. Most of the students before me returned within thirty minutes although we were given forty-five.

"I wish _I_ could leave that soon," I mumbled when entering the room. "Maybe I should just set the room on fire..."

Inside, the first thing I noticed were the examiners. There were three of them instead of just one, though the third one was here to observe Severus, who had told me that our finals were some sort of examination for him as well, having finished his two years of probation.

"Come in, Miss Dyker," Severus said and I tried very hard to read his expression. Did he think I could do it? He had to have read the exam paper beforehand.

"This is Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Troy of the Ministry of Magic," he said and pointed at the examiners to his right and left side. An uncertain smile appeared at his face and at this moment I realised, completely out of the blue, that this, my exam depended solely on a considerable amount of luck on my side.

"And this is Mr. Weasley," he continued, "Don't mind him - he is here to watch me, not you."

The three examiners laughed politely and Severus pointed at the cauldron in the middle of the room, where a sealed envelope contained the description of the potion I would have to brew. I swallowed hard and followed his outstretched arm. With trembling hands I opened the envelope and read aloud: _"There are many possibilities to cure amnesia, one, however, is more effective than all the others. Tell the examiners which one and brew the appropriate potion."_ My stomach contracted with fear when I realised which potion the envelope wanted me to prepare.

"The - the 'Remember-Me-Elixir' of 1763," I stuttered. "It is the most effective potion against amnesia of all times and consists mainly of roots. The Uphilia-root, which can be found near slopes and brings instant death if taken in large quantities."

The examiner smiled appreciatively, not knowing that what gave me real difficulties was yet to come. Severus, who knew all about my inability of putting this piece of theoretical information into action, and who had presumably more experience with 'Remember-Me-Elixirs' than his colleagues was as tense as before. I approached the cauldron in a considerably calm manner and began to select ingredients from the store behind me. To my enormous relief the roots had already been pressed. This, however, did not safe me the trouble of deciding how much of it needed to be added to the potion. Just a drop more than necessary was likely to kill the victim (sorry - _patient!_) instead of curing them.

With shaking hands I prepared the other ingredients and could not help wondering how all the others had completed their task in less then twenty minutes. Naturally, I needed more. After a seemingly endless while one of the examiners looked at his watch and said, "We've passed the time-limit, Miss Dyker..." I nodded.

"Just adding the Uphilia," I said calmly, but I was not at all as confident as I appeared to be. Many things had worked out extraordinarily well during the last thirty minutes, but I had still no idea how much Uphilia essence was needed, and I did not have the faintest idea how I was going to find out. Could Severus give me a hint? Probably not. So, after a short moment of silence, I used the way that had brought me through seven years of Potions lessons. I guessed. One, two, three... The potion assumed a greenish colour.

"Green for Slytherin," I reflected, "red for Gryffindor." And in a fit of newly gained confidence I added two more drops to the boiling liquid which started to whiz ominously. I raised my head. Severus was backing away an inch, obviously straining not to cover his face with his hands. The examiners, on the other hand, looked slightly nervous. A swish inside the cauldron drew my attention back to the potion and I saw that the liquid had transformed into white, glittering foam. I held my breath.

"Get yourself out," a very clear voice inside my head suddenly told me and I felt my head jerk up in surprise, watching Severus, whose black eyes seemed were boring into mine as if his life depended on it. "It's all you can do now!"

So I turned, gave the three examiners what I hoped to be an apologetic look, and fled. As soon as I had shut the door behind my back a huge bang inside the room gave evidence that the experiment had indeed gone up the walls. I sighed, shook my head and left the dungeons with a very bad feeling in my stomach.

The following days were worse than everything I had had to endure so far. Revising for the exams had been nerve-racking enough, but waiting for the results was even worse. Severus knew what I was going through and tried to calm me down.

"Potions wasn't too bad," he told me when we were sitting in his room for a cup of tea on the last evening of the examination week. "The examiners were rather pleased... at the beginning. I would go as far as to say they wouldn't even have noticed what complete rubbish your potion was, if you had only stopped at two drops Uphilia. That's why I chose this potion in the first place - it's widely unknown amongst the elder generations. But naturally, there was no way I could have foreseen that you would add the whole lot."

He grinned. I, on the other hand, sighed miserably.

"Which means there is going to be an additional examination, I guess. I had this feeling that I would have do one. I should probably be thankful that they give us a second chance at all, shouldn't I? But still... the thought of going through all this again..."

"Who said you'll have to do the extra one?" Severus said calmly. "You haven't ruined everything, you know. Trust me, this insignificant explosion (and destruction of half the dungeon, if I might add) will most certainly not have any influence on the high passing grade I intend to give you." I gave him an blank stare.

"You... you can still do that?" He smiled almost mischievously.

"I should certainly think so."

"B-b-but the examiners," I stuttered. "They'll have a say in it, won't they?"

"You'll find that I can be very... persuasive," said Severus with something sounding like a vague, subliminal menace in his voice. "Mind you, the examiners are trusting fools anyway. I have a rather good reputation within the ranks of Potion brewers. Did I mention that I was just recently licensed to concoct veritasera, by the way?"

I chuckled and took another sip of tea. "No you haven't."

He leaned back and gave me a relaxed smile.

"If you can really do that," I muttered, "I will indeed never have to do another exam in my life. Auf Wiedersehen anxiety, au revoir work, sayonara exams - and welcome, Florence, to the world of grown-ups. What a pleasant -"

"- surprise. Even _you_ did it," he added curtly. "Florence Dyker considers herself an adult now. Oh, how misleading final examinations can be..."

"Hey," I protested, poking his arm. "I am as much an adult as you are."

"The only difference is that you'll still have to call me 'Professor' until the end of June," Severus replied. "I insist on formalities."

We laughed and Severus summoned another teapot. Silently, but completely content we drank, both lost in thoughts of our own.

"I don't think I have ever been this happy," I said after a while. "No more exams... just sitting here, drinking tea with you... and most of all, I haven't had these horrible dreams about my parents for a while."

"So you've come to terms with their death?"

I nodded.

"I am... glad to hear it," he admitted. "I was afraid you would... draw the wrong conclusions."

"You though I was going to let him down," I said and smiled weakly. "The Dark Lord, I mean. You feared for my loyalty to our side."

"Well, I never really..."

"I have been thinking about it," I said very seriously.

Severus gave me a puzzled stare. "But you... belong to us. You can't just change your mind. The Dark Mark..."

"There's _always_ a choice, Severus," I interrupted. "That's what life is all about: choices!" I stopped and considered for a while.

"And I choose you. I love you, Severus."

A swift smile lit his face. I looked into his black eyes unblinkingly. After a short, undecided silence he raised his pale hand and touched my face almost wistfully.

"I do not know how I come to deserve you, Florence," he whispered, his voice trembling of suppressed emotions. "In an earlier life I must have rendered outstanding services... to deserve an angel as a reward." He kissed my cheek. My heart gave an insane jolt.

"Yes," I whispered. "Perhaps."

Time passed all too quickly again. When I finally remembered McGonagall's words and raised rather reluctantly Severus got up as well.

"I'll take you upstairs," he said. "The castle is playing host to the most peculiar creatures at the moment..."

"If you are talking about James Potter..." I sad and he grinned.

"A fitting description, don't you think? Well, of course, it is. Your immediate guess proves it."

"You won't be able to totally avoid him at the party tomorrow," I teased. "Wouldn't you just love to invite him on a stich of Billywig?"

"Over his dead body," Severus growled. Then, suddenly, a thought seemed to strike him and his expression grew, if possible, even more hateful. "Is the other one... Sirius Black - is he coming as well?"

"Not that I know of," I quickly assured. "Shall we? I wouldn't put it past Professor McGonagall to report you to the school governors after all, if she finds that I don't stick to our agreement."

"And that is not even the worst she can do," Severus said, pulling a pained grimmace. "I suppose I could handle the governors, but you have no idea what kinds of remarks she drops in the staff room - and what they do to my reputation."

I did not dare ask what kind of remarks McGonagall did tend to 'drop', but the mere thought seemed to scare the wits out of Severus. In any case, he urged me forward all the way up to Gryffindor tower with increased speed. We came to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"_Sugar Lump._"

With a broad yawning the lady nodded and when her portrait swung open I turned again.

"Well... see you at the party, then."

Severus remained silent. For a second I got the impression that he had not been listening, because his eyes were fixed at a point somewhere behind me. But the next moment he was composed again.

"What? Oh - yes, of course... see you tomorrow."

He bent slightly and kissed my cheek, then my neck. I seemed to disappear completely underneath his shoulder-length, black hair and closed my eyes to become entirely aware of his soft, devoted movements. He put his arm around me and let me vanish in endless waves of black cloth, holding me as though he was doing it for the first time in his life. We remained in this position for a few minutes. Then I tried to move backwards. He did not loosen his grip.

"Professor McGonagall," I whispered into his ear. "She'll skin us, layer by layer - and she's going to start with you." He smiled his mysterious smile and I crawled back into his soft, black robe.

"I don't care," he said. "There're more important things in life than essential organs. And if you are expelled, I'll marry you - though, come to think of it, that's what I'm going to do anyway."

I gave him a blank stare. He stared back, his black eyes glittering of both, playfulness and anticipation, but he did not move. There was really no way I could react to this without making a fool of myself.

"Fine," I said eventually. "I agree. When are we going to tell Professor McGonagall?" He chuckled and we kissed again. With a very warm feeling I turned to the Fat Lady, who was already giving impatient snorts... and froze. In the middle of the Gryffindor common room I saw a most familiar person who watched us, a mixture of surprise and disgust on his face. It was James. I made a startled step backwards. Had he been watching us the whole time? In my total confusion, I looked up at Severus, wanting to know how he had taken the sudden appearance of his archenemy. Severus, however, stared at James, his black eyes filled with such pure triumph that I shuddered involuntarily. My eyes narrowed in disbelief and I freed myself from his grip to make a couple of steps backwards against the Fat Lady who protested promptly. Staring at both men in bewilderment I struggled for a moment before wordlessly crossing the common room and heading upstairs to my dormitory. They were not going to win me over this time. I was not going side with either of them.

The next morning was noisy and nerve-racking. Quite understandably, since most of my fellow students were more than glad that the exams were finally over. People said that the location of the night's party had secretly been moved to Hogsmeade. I liked the sound of this, since it meant I was less likely to come across Severus while celebrating, or James, for that matter. I therefore decided to stay close to Jenny and Chris for the moment, who followed some of the teachers around to ask them about their exam results.

When Professor Sprout came across us for the fifth time and was held up once again, although she had made it plain before that none of us had failed Herbology, she lost her patience.

"Really Miss Crow," she said angrily. "What has gotten into you? You are not usually so dim-witted."

"I know, Professor," Jenny said stubbornly. "It is just that we are so awfully curious..."

Jenny liked to use 'we' instead of 'I', especially when fearing that what she was saying might irritate someone. She hated accepting responsibility, which annoyed me greatly for some reason. But I kept quiet. As usual.

The preparations for the party started in the afternoon. More or less secretly, a small group of people left the castle and went to Hogsmeade, to order butterbeer at Madame Rosmerta's and to get several boxes of living Billywigs, whose sting made you hover for a couple of hours if you were lucky. A common drug among wizards and witches of our age. Legal, of course, as the ministry made tons of money putting taxes on it, but certainly not harmless. I had never liked the sound of Billywig and no intentions to leave the school grounds anyway, so I stayed and tried to preserve my state of relative happiness, failed horribly, though, despite the fact that I happened to bump into neither James nor Severus all day.

At tea-time, a sudden pain shot through me like a bolt of lightening, doubtless caused by the Dark Mark at my left forearm. I vanished in the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The Mark glowed.

"He wants us," I thought. "I'll have to go." But something inside me revolted against this idea. "Why now?" I considered for a while if I was surprised and decided that I was.

"This is my N.E.W.T.s celebration," I growled at myself into the bathroom mirror. "Why missing one party to go to another?" I frowned and left the bathroom, still undecided about what to do.

On my way outside I met Jenny who asked me to help her designing some decoration for the evening. I agreed at once, happy to escape the situation of having to decide my further actions. Making up lots of different spells and drawing Chinese laterns onto a spare bit of parchment kept me busy for some time, but suddenly, unexpectedly, the blurred image of my parents returned to my mind and I had to pause briefly, straightening up in my chair. Jenny glanced at me with a hint of worry.

"All right with you?" she asked. "You look paler even than your lover."

Of course she had heard. Everyone had heard about the Head of Slytherin kissing a Gryffindor student in front of the Gryffindor portrait hole. Events like this rarely went by unnoticed, and since everyone had suspected already, they were hardly surprised to learn the 'truth' now, even if it came from unreliable sources like Jenny or Chris.

"My 'lover' is eccentric," I retorted, remembering the words Dumbledore had once used. "I, on the other hand, have got the flue. There is a certain difference in that, you see."

Jenny shrugged. "You would know."

"Yes, I happen to know exactly," I snapped sounding angrier than I was and left. I fetched my broom, mounted it and steered towards what had once been Severus's and my favourite place on the rooftop of Hogwarts's highest tower. Here I sat down, trying to forget what everyone else was thinking and finally dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

"Florence! Thank Merlin I found you," a voice behind me said and I realised immediately how foolish it had been to come here of all places.

"Severus," I replied as sarcastically as possible. "What would _you_ be doing here?"

"This is serious, Florence," Severus said breathlessly. "I've been looking for you for nearly an hour. Haven't you received the call?"

"Yes, I have," I said coldly, "but I am not going. Have fun."

Severus did not reply. Indeed, he remained silent for an exceptionally long time. I would have loved to see his face at this specific moment, nothing, however, could have made me turn now.

"But you have to," he finally whispered. "All of us have to."

"Not me," I replied without losing my contemptuous tone. "I have just passed a bunch of really complicated exams. I am a grown-up now, Severus. I do not 'have' to do anything."

"But this is an entirely different matter," Severus gasped. "Florence! It's not a game!"

I shrugged. "You don't mean to say this is the first time one of the Dark Lord's supporters has more important business than coming to his _stupid_ meetings?"

"Florence, please..." His voice assumed a pleading tone. "He'll be severely displeased!"

For the split of a second I felt the urge to get up and follow him, but the previous evening came back to my mind, so that I stubbornly remained seating and said, "Go on your own, Severus. If I miss anything of profound interest, you can tell me about it when you return."

"No!" he yelled and grabbed my shoulders so that I was forced to turn and look at him. "YOU HAVE TO GO!"

I was surprised. Severus hardly ever raised his voice. Only if he was exceedingly angry - or exhausted.

"You will come with me," he snarled, his black eyes glittering dangerously, "Or I -"

"Or you WHAT?" I shouted, getting to my feet, my fists clutched tightly around the handle of my wand. He did the same.

For a few seconds we were facing each other without moving.

"You have no idea what you are playing at," said Severus coldly, withdrawing his hand from his pocket. "Matching your power against the greatest wizard of all times is a game you are bound to lose."

"I am not going!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No!"

"FINE!" he shouted. "_YOU_'LL BE THE ONE FACING THE CONSEQUENCES!"

Like toddlers on a playground we parted without reconciliation. He headed off North and I sat down again. What kind of idiot did he think I was? Had he really expected me to just do as I was told like a stupid first-year? I remained brooding about this for a while, then, realising that this place would not let me stop thinking about Severus, decided that it would probably be best to join the last remaining group of students on their way into Hogsmeade.


	7. Forgetting Yourself

**Author's Note:** A quick Thank You for your reviews, everyone! I greatly appreciate creative thoughts on my work. - Silverthreads: The latter, dear. Definitely he latter. :D

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Forgetting Yourself

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Waking up the following morning was the most appalling experience of my entire life. Not only had I broken my vow of not talking to James (and a lot of other people) the night before, I had also had an insanely huge amount of Firewhiskey and butterbeer and surely a lot of other liquids, which I could not even remember now. In spite of my usual bashfulness. In spite of me not being much of a drinker - usually. But somehow, I had not been able to stop myself that night, undoubtedly because I had still been brooding about my grumpy behaviour towards Severus.

In the morning, therefore, I was suffering from the worst hang-over I had had in years. In fact, the evening had included so much alcohol that when I got up I was not able to recall a single moment of it from a certain point. I could not remember whom I had been talking to, what I had been talking about and how long I had stayed at The pub after James and I had finished our chat.

Embarrassing. But at least James had left early in the morning, which probably meant that both of us had been reasonable enough (or sober, respectively) to go to bed before the end of the party.

Severus, in any case, had returned from his "relatives" in the middle of the night, Jenny told me in the lunch break.

"He has been looking for you, Florence, but I hadn't seen you for a while, so I couldn't help him."

"Curious," I thought, but kept my mouth shut, since there was no need for Jenny to know about my temporary loss of memory.

"You've got to go and ask Professor McGonagall for your results," she told me eventually. "She said people who wanted to know their results early could come and get them today. If not, we'll have to wait till we get them by owl."

I nodded reluctantly.

"What are you scowling at?" Jenny said cheerfully. "Even Chris was brave enough to get hers, and she's passed every single exam. Mind you - I bet McGonagall overlooked her rabbit's wings on purpose."

"You haven't seen what I've done to the Potions classroom," I muttered, but Jenny had turned and was now talking to a sixth-year boy from Hufflepuff who seemed eager to hear how and where the final exams were held.

When lunch was over and the students headed back to the common rooms I made up my mind to follow Jenny's advice, so I walked towards Professor McGonagall who, apparently, was deeply involved in a conversation with Professors Flitwick and Lewis.

"It would be hard to continue teaching in that case," Lewis was just saying. "And I still don't think it's wise to not let the students know what is happening outside. Some of them are likely to find their families shattered to pieces when returning this summer."

"But what can we do?" Flitwick squeaked. "If we close the school people will object for sure. Most parents are quite frankly thankful to know their children safely within Hogwarts walls."

"And in the reach of Albus Dumbledore," McGonagall added wearily. "And who could blame them? Hogwarts is one of the few remaining institutions that is not infiltrated by Death Eaters at. Though, of course-"

"Shouldn't we continue this discussion somewhere more private?" Lewis said sharply and gave me a piercing look. "Though I daresay one of your students wants a word with you first, Minerva."

McGonagall turned with a start.

"Yes, Miss Dyker," she said, looking confused. "What is it?"

"Jenny told me you were giving out exam results," I replied, trying to sound as if their subject of conversation had not picked my curiosity. She nodded.

"Yes, of course. Most people got theirs straight after breakfast. But you would have slept in, of course..."

I wondered what she was talking about, but did not dare ask, since I had the distinct feeling that this had something to do with a certain, quite recent period of time that had vanished from my memory. Perhaps I had fallen asleep on the bar table.

"Kindly follow me to my office," said Professor McGonagall matter-of-factly, glancing once more at Flitwick and Lewis before leaving the Great Hall.

At her office, Professor McGonagall had to flip through a few folders before she found the examination papers.

"There it is," she said at long last. "Let's see... Daniels, Davids, Dean, Devlin, Dippet, Dyker - that's it."

I held my breath.

"Not bad," she muttered. "Not bad at all. I say - mostly good work, Miss Dyker, you have achieved a great deal." I smiled.

"I passed everything then?" She continued flipping.

"Transfiguration is not a problem, of course," she said, "though I must say your snake expired when the exam was over. You seem to have forgotten to give it a lung."

She stared at me over the edge of her glasses and I gave her an embarrassed grin.

"I have also been asked," she continued, "to congratulate you on your spectacular performance in both advanced courses. The examiners seemed rather impressed."

I nodded politely. Defence Against the Dark Arts had never been the subject I had seen in my nightmares and dreaded in the mornings. And nor had Charms.

"Potions, of course," McGonagall said suddenly, "you will have to retake - but naturally you'd have heard about that."

I gave her a blank stare. "Retake? Potions?"

She nodded. "That is what it says here." She turned the parchment for me to have a look at. I stared at it without knowing what to do or to say.

"He can't do that," I finally stammered. "Just because- I... But I got a passing grade! He told me so!"

"Well," McGonagall replied, "I could talk to him if you want me to. But the final decision is his, I am afraid. It says here that the cauldron exploded. Is that true?"

"Yes," I hissed, "but that's not the reason. He's going to fail me because he didn't get his way! We had a little... dispute."

"I noticed," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "but still - are you sure this is the reason you didn't pass? Professor Snape would have had to get both examiners to agree with him, after all. And that cannot have been easy, I daresay." I watched her closely, trying to decide whether it was safe to ask... but she was right. Of course she was. Or at least, this possibility had come to my own mind as well, had it not? I had been certain to have messed up the exam, after all.

After a while of desperate thinking, however, I decided that there was no way Severus could not have foreseen that. He tended to keep his promises, and he had been very sure of my success. Too sure. I knew exactly what he was like. I knew the reliable teacher he was, always helping me as much as he possibly could, and I knew the angry man, who sought revenge for every defeat he suffered - and usually got it. This was just the thing Severus would do simply because he was in a bad mood. He knew I would have a second chance, after all. Noticing Professor McGonagall's concerned look I remembered her question and hurriedly composed myself.

"That is impossible," I said calmly, still gazing at the form sheet in front of me. "No, I think... this is Severus at his best."

She nodded and remained silent.

"But I'll make him regret," I muttered. "I'll take the bloody sheet and beat him up with it. And then, I'll stuff it right into his..."

"I can't authorise that, I am afraid," said McGonagall sternly. "But how about a well-placed curse?"

Of course she was joking. I grinned.

"You should talk to him in any case," she said more seriously. "It is the most obvious solution. If he really intends to fail you on purpose, the only way to prevent this would be to settle your dispute as soon as possible."

"Does that mean I'll have to do the exam no matter what?" I asked flatly. McGonagall nodded.

"I am afraid so."

"Oh, you'll pay for that one, Severus Snape," I growled, turning to leave McGonagall's office.

"Miss Dyker," she said suddenly, however, assuming an unexpectedly sharp tone. I turned again, feeling, that I would not stand through another reprimand.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

The Deputy Headmistress seemed to struggle for words for a short while, then sighed and took off her square glasses to wipe her forehead. "Do bear in mind how much they loathed each other," she said eventually, her voice suddenly very quiet. "Please be sensitive towards his feelings." I gave her a blank stare.

"Fine," I said, eventually deciding that I had no clue what she was talking about - and that I was not particularly interested either. "Fine, I'll be sensitive towards poor, mistreated Sevvy. But I have feelings, too, you know. And I'll make him see them."

And the door slammed behind me before the Professor had a chance to reply.

My first intention was to really come bursting in Severus's lesson and give him a ringing slap across his cheek, but the idea of twenty giggling second-years, pointing at me and him and making up their own theories in hushed voices caused me to change my mind just in time. Instead, I stopped in front of the classroom door and tried to calm a little before entering.

"What an extraordinarily good-looking Potion, Thatcher," I heard Severus's voice from inside. It was soaked with sarcasm and contempt, very unlike the soft, calculating whisper I was used to. I held my breath and pressed my ear against the wooden door, eager to learn what situation had caused such strong emotions in him. Wasn't he talking to a student? Surely, a second-year would not be able to understand his mock approval?

"You mean it?" I heard a trembling voice reply to Severus's statement. "I thought it was a bit dark-"

"Of course, you fool!" Severus replied, dropping all sarcasm at once. "It is black! Did you really think this potion could make anyone invisible if it looked like that piece of junk you have just produced? It is called Invisibility Potion, idiot boy! Why do you think it is called that?"

The boy seemed to have gone to pieces behind his cauldron. I felt sorry for the poor child, as I knew exactly what this situation felt like. The majority of Severus's lectures had a tendency of giving you nightmares for the rest of your life. And this was only a second-year...

When the bell rang and Severus told the children to clear away I suddenly remembered why I had come here in the first place. The students filed out of the room one after another, giving me politely interested looks at the very most. I took a deep breath and entered Severus's realm of potions, making an effort of radiating superiority. He, on the other hand, was sitting at desk, brooding over a couple of essays, without looking up.

"Err-" Why did he have to look so darn intimidating? "S-" He was a bloody teacher. Perhaps all I had to do was to remind him of it. Remind him of his responsibilities. A glimpse of sarcasm lit my brooding mind. "Professor?"

"Sit down, Coster, I'll come to you in a minute," he said without looking up. I gave an impatient snort, crossed my arms and tapped my foot. He still took no notice of me and I somehow doubted that he would notice by himself that I was not merely a second-year waiting to be put in detention.

"Severus," I finally snarled. "You are wasting my time!" He raised his head in obvious surprise.

"Florence..." A strange smile appeared at his face, just for a second. "How surprising..."

Without answering I sat down at one of the tables in the front row and gave him a stern look.

"You think this is funny, do you?" I said coldly. "Telling me not to worry - and then failing me on purpose?"

"You are rubbish at Potions," Severus replied and his black eyes glittered malevolently. "Trust me - I can tell."

"What did the examiners say?" I asked furiously. He grinned. "Oh, I believe they found your performance quite convincing. Just as I did, in fact. The problem is - most of what you did was clearly lucky guessing. I know exactly what your face looks like when you do. And the result was instantly recognisable, of course. Making my dear colleagues want another prove of your non-existent abilities was not exactly the hardest of all tasks. In fact, it turned out to be one of the easiest things I've ever done. Most regrettably I won't be able to witness you blowing up the Potions classroom again, though. I might have enjoyed the sight." His look had assumed an odd quality and his eyes were glittering again.

"What? You won't be there?"

His lips curled. "Unfortunately..."

"But you will set the exam?"

He smirked. I could not believe it.

"But surely you are aware that I..."

"...can't do the exam without my help? Yes, I am."

I looked at him horror-struck.

"Do you remember me telling you," said Severus after a long while quietly, his eyes glittering, apparently full of malice, "that I could have you pass the exam without effort?"

I nodded.

"Well," he said, "it is just as simple the other way round. Having you flunk Potions is not going to be a problem for me."

"Why?"

He remained silent and turned to his essays again.

"Severus, I insist that you tell me the reason! After all that happened - you owe me an explanation!"

"After all that happened," he replied coldly, "I owe you nothing and I have every reason to do this. I have..." his voice cracked, just for a second, "...entertained the ridiculous illusion that the girl I used to know has grown up, as I have. But that was a mistake. A very... foolish mistake."

I frowned. "You are the one who keeps challenging James Potter," I said slowly. He flinched indignantly at the name. "So who needs to grow up? I am sorry, but I think I am the one who made the mistake here."

I rose and walked towards the dungeon door. But every step burnt and in the end I had to turn again. I would not let it end like this, or it would hurt for the rest of my life. I returned to his desk and positioned myself right in front of him.

"By the way, Severus," I said, "next time you find someone willing to believe you - think before whispering false promises into her ear! Because it is not my fault that you cannot seem to be able to get your emotional life under control!"

That hit home. Severus jumped to his feet, his face glowing with rage and his eyes glittering perilously. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Florence! You are the one who..."

But he did not finish his sentence. A small boy had appeared at the doorstep, looking both, frightened and appalled. He seemed ready to turn on his heal, but Severus recovered within a second. An unusually malicious smile appeared at his face and he straightened up in an extremely slow and dangerous way.

"Come in, Coster!" he ordered.

The boy approached.

"Mr. Filch told me to see you," he said in a subdued mutter. "He..."

"I know, I know," Severus interrupted in a sweet voice. "It is about my office, isn't it?"

"But I didn't mean to enter it!" the boy exclaimed. "We got lost. The door was open, so we..."

"Silence!" Severus cut him off. "You will not lie to me in this impertinent manner!"

The boy shut his mouth, looking intimidated.

"But you have chosen a very convenient time to do so," Severus remarked and gave me a brief glance. "Miss Dyker here is obviously in need of a demonstration that I will not have students treat me like a complete idiot! You will help Thatcher pickling python guts this evening, so that the sixth-years can use them tomorrow morning."

The boy's expression filled with disgust. "Those filthy, slimy things you keep next door?"

Severus raised his eyebrows. "I expect you after dinner. Don't be late! Now clear off!"

The boy lowered his head and turned to leave the classroom. Severus looked exceedingly pleased with himself. He seemed to start enjoying this kind of performance.

"You like it!" I said furiously. "You enjoy frightening innocent second-years..."

"Third-years," Severus interrupted coldly. "I must say they are a lot easier to handle when they are scared. I shall bear that in mind."

I was disgusted. Severus, on the other hand, turned to his essays again. He did not seem to feel that there was any need to continue our discussion. I looked down at him and waited.

"You still owe me an explanation," I said after a short and icy silence. "I won't leave until I've got one."

Slowly, very slowly and with a dangerous gleam in his eye Severus raised his head and looked straight into my face.

"I give you a fair warning, Florence," he said, making his words sound like a death threat, making me shudder. "Don't push it. I'll tell you one last time: Leave me alone! Don't talk to me, don't even look at me. And keep out of my sight.' His voice was no more than a growl now. His eyes full of gleaming hatred, his hands shaking of suppressed rage. 'Go!' he snarled. 'You make me sick!"

I swallowed. Couldn't say anything for a while. Then, with a dignity I would never have thought me capable of, I walked towards the door.

"Severus Snape," I said without turning. "You really are the most disgusting piece of scum I've ever seen in my life!"

And I left.

I limped along the dungeon corridor, towards its darker areas, which I had never even seen. I sobbed slightly, stumbled, and finally broke into tears, totally losing control over myself. All that made my life worth living vanished the instant I became aware of it. It had happened with my parents, and now it happened with Severus. But why??? Did everything I loved have to go to pieces?

"This is not fair," I whimpered and kicked an armour which gave a rattling protest. "Why is this happening? And why is it happening to me?" A sudden jolt of anger made me run down the corridor and stop only when I had reached a small, empty classroom at the very end of it, which was covered in total darkness. I entered it and squatted down behind one of the tables, crying, coughing and hitting my fists against the dungeon wall.

It helped. For a few seconds the inner pain vanished. Feeling empty and lost I grabbed the edge of the table in an effort to pull myself together and tried to get up, which made my left sleeve slide down and expose my forearm... and the Dark Mark.

Puzzled and rather disgusted I stared at the gloomy skull, which shimmered beneath my white skin like a sign of guilt. Like a bond with Severus. I hated it! I suddenly realised how I hated everything that was somehow connected with him - the whole Death Eater thing, for a start, and everything else about our dark secret - our connection to the Dark Lord. I wondered if all this had merely been about winning Severus back. I had dedicated my life to him, instead of going my own way... instead of deciding what was best for me, Florence!

I felt my upper body quiver and took a deep, calming breath before raising my left forearm, putting my fingernails at the inner side of my wrist and, following a sudden impulse, scraped over the skin of my inner forearm, producing four long, screaming red lines on it. My stomach cramped. The skin was burning, the Dark Mark unscathed. I went through the same procedure once again, causing the scratches to start bleeding. I did it once more. This time, little shreds of skin came off and my eyes filled with tears.

The Dark Mark, on the other hand, had not vanished. Its gloomy, skull-shaped line seemed to have sunken even deeper into my flesh as if to say, "You'd have to do better than that."

"Very well," I growled. "Let's see what you make of this..." I took out my wand and pointed it at my forearm. "Signum Inflamare," I hissed and a blue flame shot out of the top of my wand. I screamed when it reached my arm, did not lower my wand, however, and watched the Dark Mark assuming most peculiar shapes. With a jolt of triumph I observed how its black lines suddenly started to burn. Thick, black smoke appeared and ascended towards the ceiling, making me let out a cry of victory and pain.

Suddenly the door burst open. Within seconds Severus had crossed the room, taken my wand and hit me so hard in the face that I stumbled and fell. The room floated around my whirling head. Every sensation had left my body and I was ready to die... had to die...

Severus remained standing next to my unmoving feet for a couple of minutes. He was panting. How had he realised... I watched his unmoving face and tried to make out hatred, but all I saw was panic. And misery. Then he looked down at his forearm, calmly, almost relieved. His Dark Mark was smoking, too.

I wanted to say something. Talk to him, before he decided to vanish from my life again, but Severus gave me a look of pure venom and left the room before I had even opened my mouth, my wand stored safely in his pocket. I refused to move. Thought about my parents and felt sorry for myself until I was lying in a huge, wet puddle of tears, surrounded by cold dark and loneliness. Loneliness above all.

I hated my life.

Within a few days every student at Hogwarts had heard of my fight with Severus in the Potions classroom, thanks to a certain Jules Coster. Most of my fellow seventh years had left Hogwarts already - only those who had failed one or the other exam were staying. Among them Jenny, with whom I had excessively long conversations, sitting in the Great Hall and sometimes the Gryffindor common room.

Walking through the school's endless corridors was not at all comfortable anymore, since half the first and second years seemed to take me as some kind of heroine. I felt their appreciative, almost admiring looks following me everywhere and I heard them whisper as soon as I turned round a corner, "Snape... dungeons... scum..."

I did not care. My thoughts were spinning around, displaying the same images and emotions over and over again, and still... I could not get hold of any of them. Could not understand what was happening to me. My life had become futile, a pointless mess. I told my mirror, who suddenly seemed much more intelligent than any of my friends, including Jenny, but the mirror was a magical device nonetheless, not a human being, and his answers never gave the desired satisfaction. I was everything - happy, miserable, depressed, lonely... a bit suicidy all in all, but never courageous enough to try and burn the Dark Mark again.

My wand was restored to me by a highly suspicious looking Minerva McGonagall about two weeks before the verifying exam. She seemed eager to know what could have made Severus take such radical measures, since depriving students of their wand was not something a teacher would usually do at Hogwarts, unless there was a severe case of rule breaking or danger of life. Seeing the expression on my face, however, she foresaw a new personal disagreement and refrained from asking. I was eternally grateful for it.

And then he called.

Out of the blue, I felt a stabbing pain at my forearm and, not bothering to hide in a toilet this time, pulled my left sleeve up to my shoulders. The Dark Mark was glowing, undamaged, beneath the red scars of my attempted mutilation, and caused an inexplicable feeling of claim and desire. I felt that Lord Voldemort wanted to see me and that I would go this time.

My feet moved towards Hagrid's hut without me noticing. As I had expected, Severus was nowhere in sight. There was, however, no need to worry about an unseen disappearance. All the teachers were busy preparing the additional exams. No one would notice my disappearance.

Everything worked out very well. Having left the castle I did not need to worry about speed or direction. My broom seemed to know its task. Urged forward by my continuously burning forearm it carried me along endless woods, rivers, and lakes until I recognised the region and a small castle appeared far away at the horizon. Malfoy manor was in sight.

But the meeting was not going to take place within the vaults of Lucius' place of residence this time. My broom took me to one of the small clearings behind the manor where, between a couple of hedges and old trees, the Death Eaters had assembled already.

I covered my face with the same piece of black cloth I had used before and landed close to them under a small beech tree. Some recognised and greeted me despite of the mask, but most remained silent - did not even talk to each other, in fact. They were all staring at a small group of Death Eaters beneath a huge willow. Only now I realised that the Dark Lord had arrived already and was talking to three of his supporters in private, looking very gloomy and displeased.

I suddenly wondered why I had come here. I told myself I had been feeling alone, even lost, and that I had simply been in the mood of attending this meeting, but I knew that he question went deeper. What did I have to do with this gang of dark figures who enjoyed killing and torturing helpless Muggles... and Muggleborns? I noticed that Severus had not arrived yet and I suddenly realised that a lot of my old confidence had simply vanished the day Severus had abandoned me.

Lord Voldemort took a few steps forward and gave the surrounding Death Eaters a piercing look, then started to speak in barely more than a whisper.

"Death Eaters! Devotees of the belief that a world ruled by magic folk could be better - greater than it is at the moment! You have come, which shows that it is not too late, yet. Despite the many losses we had to suffer during the past weeks, we have also had a lot of success. Some have left us, but some..." and he looked straight into my eyes, "... have also returned."

It couldn't be. Maybe he was staring at a point behind me in order to concentrate on his speech. He approached. I held my breath. Did not dare move and suddenly realised that he was clearly moving towards the spot where I was standing.

"Florence," he whispered almost inaudibly, "you are with us?" I took an unintentional step backwards and returned his look unblinkingly, trying to show neither fear nor any of the doubts that had overcome me lately.

"O-of course," I said, feeling slightly taken aback. "Why shouldn't I?"

He gave me a mirthless laugh.

"I assumed you had left again, my dear," he said menacingly, coming even closer. "After you... refused to join us when I called a few weeks ago."

I did not know what to say. Who could have expected a scene like this? He was standing only a few inches away from my face now and I could see his red eyes glow in the darkness that enclosed us slowly, menacingly.

"Let's see...," he said with a cold smile and took out his wand. "Let's have a closer look."

With an almost imperceptible wave of his wand he rolled up my left sleeve so that everyone could see the Dark Mark at my forearm. It was glowing once more. Voldemort smiled his snake-like smile.

"Good work," he congratulated himself. "It looks quite impressive."

I gave him a puzzled look, still having no idea what this was aiming at.

"You are one of us now, Florence," Voldemort finally hissed. "That means you will appear at my side the very instant I call you. Whatever it takes."

"I... I was busy..." I stammered. His expression became icy.

"The very second I call you," he hissed, "whatever it takes. Will you remember that? Or do you need a demonstration as to why it is not wise to provoke the most powerful sorcerer in the world?"

I stared at him, unable to speak or to move. I was not going to let him treat me this way. But what if people's assumptions were right? What if he did terrible things even to his own supporters?

"I know exactly why it is not wise to provoke you," I said coolly. "I have seen what happened to the Bones just because you wanted them dead."

"Not quite, Florence," Voldemort said slowly and dangerously. "The Bones died because of their own foolishness. They were thoughtless enough to work against me and had to pay, that's right. But they had a choice. Everyone has. Even you. So consider carefully if this is a game you want to play, because working against me is nothing I would recommend."

The Death Eaters laughed.

I felt I had heard this before. Who had compared all this to a game again?

"Don't overestimate your powers!" I said defiantly, speaking in general, rather than addressing him. "I can do whatever I want. No one is going to prevent me from thinking for myself."

Voldemort laughed coldly and drew nearer. "As you wish," he whispered. "Leave, if you dare. You will be the one having to face the consequences." And suddenly, I realised why his words sounded so familiar.

"You are just as sick as Severus!" I shouted, tapped my forehead and turned to leave the clearing, heading towards the place where I had left my broom. Behind my back Voldemort was still laughing. The tone, however, had changed. It sounded vicious and most aggressive now. I shuddered.

"_Crucio,_" he said icily, making me whirl around in reflex, totally taken by surprise. A pain, such as I had never felt before, was drilling through me before I could react. My skin seemed to split, my insides were ripped apart. I screamed like I had never screamed before and threw myself to the ground in an effort to make my blazing hands cover every part of my body at the same time. I had the expression that my brain was beginning to dissolve. That all my thoughts and memories were transforming into a huge sphere, which escaped my reach although I tried to seize it with all might. I was falling, falling...

And then it stopped. The pain vanished as suddenly as it had come, and I knew it was over although it took the thick fog a rather long time to fade away completely. I needed a moment of recollection to realise where I was and what had happened, but my memory returned - just as my fear.

"This group can only survive if its members stick together under any circumstances. In addition, being a Death Eater means you have to show unconditional, everlasting loyalty towards your master. Do you want to be a Death Eater, Florence?"

I stared at him without moving. He lost his patience.

"Answer me, or will only another dose of the Cruciatus curse be able to make you see reason?" That woke me up.

"No, please," I whispered. "Anything but that." I tried to get up, but stumbled and fell again. "I am not sure if you are truly aware of what I just said," Voldemort hissed. "Perhaps those few seconds were not enough to make you remember your vow of a lifetime service?" He raised his wand once more and my eyes widened in horror.

"No," I moaned, "please..."

I flung myself to his feet, trembling all over, and remained there for a while, feeling the other Death Eaters' contemptuous looks glide over my shivering body until Lord Voldemort spoke again.

"Get up, Florence," he said. "You know where you belong."

I nodded hastily and tried to stand, not daring to raise my head.

"Yes, master..."

Voldemort nodded and turned towards the others. "We have a lot to discuss. Let us continue...!"


	8. Fear and Understanding

**

Fear and Understanding

**

After this evening my life was devoted to the Dark Lord and to him only. I believed... no - at that time I _knew_ that there was no point in fighting this huge, all-consuming power that was taking over everywhere. I knew resistance was bound to result I death or, worse, in renewed torture, and the prospect of having to face the Cruciatus Curse again made me do the things - the _terrible_ things - Lord Voldemort demanded of his followers, without further consideration. It was easy enough.

"There are three spells that give you all the power you need to rule the world," he used to say. "Which is why they are forbidden, of course. People fear them. They give you total control over every human being on this planet." The three Unforgivable Curses... control, pain and death. It did not take much to switch over to Muggles instead of cats and insects. Within a week I had mastered the death curse on a grown man. The other Death Eaters seemed impressed. Voldemort was pleased.

"Florence, I am proud of you," he once said, being in a considerably good mood. "I am proud that a witch of your abilities is among our midst."

"Master," I had replied most respectfully. "Your abilities surpass my own by far. And what I have - everything I have - belongs to you."

Keep talking. Keep flattering. Never say anything which might irritate him. This sole concern dominated my day. One after another. Until, one day, I suddenly realised that tomorrow I would finally get my second chance to fail Potions. Naturally, I had done nothing whatsoever to improve my "non-existent skills", considering the given circumstances, but I did not care.

The exam took place at the beginning of June. Severus did not seem to have put any more effort into the matter, so, to my great surprise, I faced two examiners I already knew: Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange. Naturally, though Severus might not have been very pleased with that, this left me in a very lucky position indeed. Without any difficulties I passed the exam and was packing my belongings along with the other students when I suddenly noticed voices and laughter coming from our common room.

"Done," I heard a very familiar voice. "But don't tell anyone just yet."

I realised that James Potter was gracing Hogwarts with his superior presence again. But who was the person he had addressed? I made my way down from the dormitories towards the common room and listened closely. The second voice spoke.

"Have you seen the match this weekend, by the way? The Sparrows have engaged a couple of new players - mostly people no one has ever heard of."

I entered the common room and saw Peter Pettigrew, one of James's old friends, sitting on one of the armchairs near the fire. The small, fat man with his boyish grin and the pointed nose spotted me at an instant.

"Florence," he said pleasantly, "how come you are still here?"

James, too, looked up in surprise. "Florence! What made you stay?"

I showed them my most tormented expression.

"Had to do another exam," I muttered. "But let's not talk about me. Peter, what are you doing at the moment?"

"An additional exam?" James asked intractably. "Which subject?"

"Potions," I said curtly. "Are you working on 'Ministry business' again, James?"

But James wasn't to be distracted.

"How can it be Potions?" he asked. "You told me Snape was going to give you a passing grade no matter what."

I shrugged. "I don't know what I told you, but the outcome of the exam was very different from what I expected. Mind you - not the outcome. Only the result. Severus didn't even tell me that I'd failed. Let alone that I'd be resitting the entire thing."

I felt blind anger rising inside me again about this inexplicable sudden unfairness but did not dare show it, since neither James nor Peter liked Severus very much. Although I felt much like using certain illegal curses on the latter right now, I realised that it was no good seeking comfort from his former archenemies either. Instead, I sat down opposite Peter and looked into James's eyes who, to my great astonishment, seemed still engaged about the matter of my additional exam.

"Curious," he finally said. "And he hasn't given you a reason?"

"None whatsoever. I don't know what could have happened that made him hate me all of a sudden. I didn't anticipate this. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you had the pleasure of witnessing."

James shook himself. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I suppose I will never be able to grasp what a girl like you wants with someone like Severus Snape."

I shrugged. "I like him the way he is..."

We talked about all sorts of things. James told Peter and me about the war and we were most fascinated about the many things he had heard and seen.

"Lord Voldemort has lost many supporters," he informed us, having me flinch at the name out of habit. "Don't tell me you're one of those who aren't capable of saying his name all of a sudden," he said, looking slightly taken aback. "All that You-know-who nonsense..."

I shook my head quickly.

"Just the shock of hearing it," I told him. "Happens less and less, after all. Please continue."

"It is only now I understand how much law and order means to a civilised community, because we haven't got any law - not to mention order - any longer. So much depends the Order now. Our whole future, I daresay."

"How is Lily by the way?" I asked. "Is she still coming with you? She might want a break from catching V... V... the Dark Lord's supporters."

James grinned at me.

"She is still working," he said. "But Harry's due in a few weeks time now. I've asked Sirius Black to be godfather, by the way."

"Sirius!" I said happily. "What is he doing?"

"Nothing, really," James replied. "He has still not decided what to do with his life. The girls, of course, still love him as much as ever."

I grinned.

"Oh yes. I can imagine. Give him my love if you two happen to meet again, will you? If he remembers me at all."

James nodded. "I bet he does," he said. "Do you remember that evening when he told you about his latest theory on Slytherins being evil by nature?"

"Oh yes," I sighed. "He wanted to prevent me from meeting Severus that night. It was the first time ever something went click between us." I smiled and let my gaze wander over the fireplace and over Peter's round face.

"Between you and Sirius?" James grinned. "I never knew..."

"Very funny," I growled. "Severus, of course."

James laughed.

"I know, I know. Just kidding. I am fully aware that your preference used to lie with certain snivelling Slytherin. I wouldn't go as far as to say it's a waste, but it is certainly is a pity."

"Stop it!" I said sharply, but listening to someone who spoke ill of Severus was strangely satisfying and, if I wanted to be honest, exactly what I needed now. James seemed to have guessed my thoughts.

"You know what it used to be like," he said in an obvious effort to civilise his remarks. "We didn't... get on."

"I know," I said thoughtfully. "Though none of you has ever told me the true reason. Who started it, for example?"

James shook his head. "You hardly find reasons for quarrels like this. There wasn't a source of hatred or anything. Things just got worse and worse with every time we met. Snape seemed to take offence at Sirius' and my skills and... our arrogance. Well, my arrogance, mostly. I suppose I could have been less boastful from time to time." He smiled, making it clear how much he had changed in recent years and pondered about his own words for a while. "Oh, and there were a couple of pranks, of course, as you will certainly remember. I don't think Snape ever got over old Padfoot making a fool of him in front of Professor Holloway... you know - that day when he blew up his cauldron with a bit of silverquain. Snape's always been a bit obsessive about his school work, hasn't he?"

I nodded. "Yes indeed. And those pranks used to really upset him sometimes."

"Well, most of them weren't unprovoked, you know," James replied with a serious look. "He nearly got Sirius and Remus expelled, after all... several times, to be exact. Do you remember the 'Imperio' prank?" I shook my head.

"The Imperius Curse?" I asked. "What happened?"

James gave me a disbelieving look, "You don't even know about that one? It happened during our first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had found a book about the Unforgivable Curses in the library and was eager to test the Imperius Curse on someone. There was nothing in the book about Azkaban or how dangerous those spells really are. None of us had ever heard about them, so Sirius looked around and found... Snape hanging around. Naturally, Madame Pince couldn't fail to notice what he was doing when Severus started doing a step dance on the library table. Sirius was surrounded by a bunch of teachers and brought to Dumbledore's office immediately. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Snape grin and, with a wave of his wand, he let the book disappear. Literally. Sirius couldn't prove that he had really come across a book which mentioned the Imperius Curse later on, because the bloody thing was nowhere to be found. Dumbledore was beside himself. But he believed Sirius. Explained everything about the Unforgivable Curses and gave him - just a warning. Snape couldn't believe it. Of course, he knew that Sirius was innocent, but Sirius hadn't been able to prove it, so he should have been expelled."

I remained silent for a while.

"Interesting," I finally said, clearing my throat. "That explains a great deal. And there was more, you said?"

James nodded silently. Peter gave an uneasy cough, which suddenly reminded me of his presence.

"And what about you?" I asked. "Have you all been friends from the beginning?" He gave a shy smile.

"James and Sirius were," he said. "Almost straight away. Once Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor - against everyone's expectations..." He grinned.

"Well, not against mine," James contradicted. "I'd met him on the train. I knew he was all right, really."

"There's nothing wrong with being a Slytherin," I said sharply.

"Yeah, right," muttered James, but he did not really sound convinced.

"But I met them very soon," Peter continued, breaking the awkward silence that had followed, "and we became friends before the first year was over. Same goes for Remus." I sighed and leaned back.

"Friends for a lifetime," I said. "Not this unbalanced, shady kind of people - like Severus. Though they can be really nice, once you get to know them, as I said."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," James replied, but the sound of his voice, again, told me something different.

"By the way," I said, "did you all have these peculiar nicknames?" James laughed.

"Naturally," he said. "But please don't ask for a reason this time. It is a secret."

"I am not interested," I grinned. "But what was yours, Peter? I don't think I ever heard anyone call you."

"Wormtail," Peter said with a clumsy smile. "I am Wormtail." I stared into his eyes and did some very deep thinking.

"I've heard that before," I said. "But where?"

"I can't imagine," Peter replied. "Hardly anyone calls me Wormtail nowadays." I nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I must have heard it before," I said. "When you where still at Hogwarts. After all, I know that James was called... Prongs, right?"

James nodded.

"And Sirius was Padfoot, and Remus was... don't tell me... Moony. Remus was Moony." James grinned again.

"An extraordinary achievement," he said. "You can finally pronounce them intelligibly."

I gave him a blank stare.

"Don't tell me you don't remember," he said in a mocking tone. "I had to repeat them over and over again so that you could memorise them - that night in Hogsmeade...?"

I was confused. "Oh, really?"

Peter laughed.

"Somewhat insulting that you can't remember," said James, now grinning as well. "We spent half an hour with it - at least. You were pretty drunk."

I shrugged. "I am sorry," I said. "But I really can't remember a thing." With an apologetic grin I leaned back into my seat. "I was going to ask you about it anyway. Because I really have no clue what happened that evening. It... uhm... seems to have ended rather early?"

James nodded. I suppose it did," he said, "but quite honestly, I can't remember either. I was at least as drunk as you by the end of it."

"Oh," I muttered, "that's a pity." James nodded.

"I suppose we just fell asleep and were brought back to the castle by some bad-tempered watchman."

"Or teacher," I added with a concerned expression, "because I still can't help thinking that Severus's behaviour might have been caused by something that happened that night."

James laughed. "Tell me if you ever find out," he said, "It's probably to do with me, or he wouldn't have lost it so totally..."

I silenced him with a look. He, however, looked suddenly worried and started shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Florence," he said slowly, "What if..."

"What if it _had_ something to do with you?" I said and blushed. "You don't mean to say..."

He shrugged. "And if?"

"Then I... I could understand him," I said. "Fully, in fact."

"But... this is absurd," James said quickly. "We can't... we wouldn't..."

"For my part," I said, "anything could have happened. I can't remember a thing. And nor can you, right?"

"Right," James said, "but still..."

There was a very unpleasant silence.

"What now?" I said after a while.

"Go and find out!" he replied. "Ask him."

"FORGET IT!"

I fully regained consciousness within seconds. "I'll leave that to you if you don't mind."

"Not at all," James said sarcastically. "_Snivellus, old friend, I have been dating your girlfriend the other night. Do you mind at all? I swear nothing happened... though... I can't, really. Because I can't remember a thing._ How's that?"

I shrugged. "_Severus, are you mad at me because I betrayed you with James Potter of all people? If so, please tell me, because I've temporarily lost my memory and can't quite recall the incident._ That's not better, is it? I suppose we'll have to rule that out."

We considered the matter for a while. Then, suddenly, an image came into my mind. A shimmering bowl in the darkness of a deserted room on Severus's desk. A bowl, filled with a silvery substance. The substance I was looking for. I slammed my hand down at the table. That man had a Pensieve, had he not? And he would have stored his memories of me in it. To rid his head of it. My eyes widened and I jumped up.

"I have to go," I said hastily. "Got an idea. Been nice meeting you again. Bye, Peter. See you, James." And with this I left the common room and ran towards the staircase leading to the dungeons.

Every sensible human being on this planet locks his or her property in a safe place where no one can find it. Severus Snape, however, has always been rather conceited about the spells he uses to seal his office and his private chambers. His belongings were therefore more likely to be spread all over the floor of his living-room than on any shelf or drawer.

Being, of course, familiar with Severus's habits I knew that at this time of the day he was most likely to stand in his office to either brew an existing potion or invent a new one. I had consequently no difficulties whatsoever entering his private domicile, since Count Dracule had very clearly not been informed about our separation.

"Good day to you, Florence," he greeted me cheerfully. "What a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you for weeks."

I nodded. "Been busy," I replied. "Do you think... Could I come in just for a few minutes? Severus knows I'm here, of course."

He grinned. "Going to play a little prank on him, are you? Well, I know whom I can trust, naturally." And without further delay he swung aside so that I could enter Severus's gloomy living room.

"Lumos," I whispered, but that was hardly necessary. I had immediately spotted the shimmering white bowl standing on Severus's desk, which contained his thoughts and, probably, a large part of his memory. I reached it in a few steps and peered in.

Suddenly, without a warning, the sallow face of the Dark Lord appeared right in front of me, glaring in a most menacing way, so that I let go of the Pensieve and jumped backwards. I hit against Severus's desk with a loud thump, fell, and let out a yelp of pain. It was only then I realised how ridiculous this sort of behaviour was. He was just a memory, after all. Cursing silently I got up again, rubbing my ankle before picking up the Pensieve and staring into the glittering liquid once more. Good thing this kind of glass was unbreakable.

The Dark Lord spoke. "Crucio!"

I struggled with all my power against my first reaction to close my eyes and run. Instead, I watched a tiny Severus lying on the floor, doubling up with pain and screaming in a way I had never heard him scream before. I wanted to extend my hand and get him out of there, but I knew it would be useless and I knew that touching the liquid inside the Pensieve would be a terrible mistake.

Instead, I extended my wand and began meddling with, or rather _stirring_ in Severus's thoughts. The face of Dumbledore appeared.

"Think about it, Severus," he said. "I could use a talented wizard like you amongst our midst, but I have no need for someone who will stab my back in the end."

I was surprised. Dumbledore had approached him?

"Find Florence," I whispered and continued stirring. "Find James."

The scenery changed at an instant. Music and the lights of a NEWTs party became visible. It was Hogsmeade.

"There he is," I muttered, watching Severus walking towards the lights, muttering to himself, "... must warn Florence... will understand... will have to understand..."

I sighed and felt very warm all of a sudden. He had wanted to warn me. Make me realise what awaited me if I decided to return.

Severus met some of my fellow students but none of them seemed in any fit state of informing him about my whereabouts. Then he met Jenny.

"Florence?" she asked in surprise. "No. I haven't seen her for ages. But I believe she was sitting over there talking to James Potter last time we met."

The expression Severus's face assumed was not a pleasant one.

"Let it not be true," I thought, watching him approach a small sitting area surrounded by red and yellow Chinese laterns. "We cannot have been snogging the second he came back to warn me. We cannot have been _that_ intoxicated."

Severus went round a corner and eyed the sitting area. No one was there. I heaved a sigh of relief. My worst fear had not come true. Our supposition proved to be wrong. So nothing had happened and Severus was indeed nothing but a big jerk? I glanced into the Pensieve again and saw Professor McGonagall walking swiftly towards Severus. She seemed upset and moved her hands in agitation.

"Severus!" she called. "How convenient to see you here. There is a lot of work ahead of us. Do you recall what happened last year?" Severus nodded.

"A bunch of hopelessly drunk students, a couple of pregnant girls..."

"Three, to be exact," McGonagall shrieked. "Well, I won't have it again this year. If I had only been informed about the party being moved to Hogsmeade. I would naturally have given my consent, but now..."

"What are you going to do?" Severus asked, sounding familiarly composed and rational again.

"First of all I am going to rid the toilets of this NEWTs pack who seem to be under the impression that they're enjoying themselves," McGonagall decided. "Will you give me a hand?"

Severus nodded dutifully and followed the Deputy Headmistress towards the row of toilet containers which had been specifically summoned for our party. McGonagall stopped in front of the first door, knocked firmly and yelled, "The party is over! Come out this instant!"

She did not have to wait long. Three students appeared on the doorstep, each holding a bottle of Firewhiskey in their hands. They were giggling.

"Oh, Professor," the oldest babbled. "Spoiling people's fun as usual?"

"Yeah," her friend agreed. "One should think that, after seven years of school, we have a right of celebrating a bit more intensively. We're adults now, you know..."

But Professor McGonagall was not that easy to get rid of.

"Go to bed," she insisted. "And if I run into you one more time tonight, I will turn you into wine casks."

The message was clear. Grumbling, but nevertheless cheerfully the girls took themselves off to Hogwarts.

"You might want to get started at the other side, Severus," McGonagall eventually requested. "And be strict! I won't have a Hogwarts N.E.W.T.s party escalate in such an inexcusable way. It is a scand-"

She was interrupted by Professor Flitwick floating through the open door of one of the lavatories, who looked rather blissful, though clearly under the influence of more than just Firewhiskey.

"Too much dope," he hummed. "Too much Billywig. This stuff is extraordinary, believe me, Min-" He stopped and stared at McGonagall's livid expression. "Sorry," he muttered, "Sorry, I... I'll be off then." And with this he drifted towards the remaining festivities as quickly as he possibly could. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, looked murderous.

"Is there anyone else in there?" she shrieked, sticking her head through the open door of the container-like building. "Another member of the staff perhaps? Show yourselves!"

"Yes, yes, just give me a moment," a voice from the inside announced and I held my breath. It was James's.

Apparently, Professor McGonagall had made the same discovery.

"Is that you, James?" she managed to say before losing it completely. "Oh, you can't be serious!"

The door flung open and an utterly drunk James Potter came into sight. He had difficulties keeping himself upright and only managed to do so by grabbing the doorknob firmly while trying to shut his flies again. Behind James I saw the outline of a female student sitting on top of the toilet lid and it was only after a moment of horror and disbelief that I was ready to believe that this person was, in fact, me. I was hardly wearing anything and trying to hide from the Professors' view, holding a black piece of cloth before me. My robes.

Behind Professor McGonagall I saw Severus's eyes widen in disbelief and narrow again almost instantly, assuming a strange gleam of surprise and disgust at the same time. He had recognised me.

My inebriated self stared at Professor McGonagall, eventually producing a graceless giggle.

"'ofessor McGonnagonall... what..." My eyes met Severus's. "Sevvy...!" I was most blatantly not aware of my doings. "Wha' you doinnngere...?"

Looking at this scene from a different angle, I noticed, was extremely absurd, since even now I could not recall a single moment of what was happening here. It was as though nothing like this had ever happened to me.

"I figured this was a peaceful evening involving nothing but a few drinks," I muttered at a non-existent Severus and continued gazing into the glittering fluid of his Pensieve. I saw the Severus inside turn around on his heels and walk towards the street leading up to the castle without another word. McGonagall, on the other hand, did not seem capable of tearing herself away from the sight she was facing and continued staring at James who stared back in obvious confusion.

"'rofessor," he finally said, "We dinnt do a-anything. Ssssirius dinnnt know... just wanted to see... Remusss can concanconf... confff..."

"You are drunk. Tut!" McGonagall scolded. "And so thoroughly. You will probably not be remembering a thing tomorrow morning. Go to bed! Same for you, Miss Dyker, I am very disappointed in you." She gave me a sharp look. "What a disgrace."

I saw the Pensieve-Florence trying to get up. In vain, "'rofessor, I..." and with this collapsing in front of her Head of House.

"How on earth could you take it this far?" McGonagall muttered. "And right under Severus's nose." She took out her wand, lifted me into the air and finally brought me back to Hogwarts, using the same way Severus and James had taken.

The surroundings faded and swift steps brought me back into reality. The door flung open and I had just enough time to put the Pensieve down before a powerful curse slammed me against the wall and put me in a stiff headlock so that a number of vials and tubes fell down and burst into a thousand pieces.

"Severus, listen to me..." I gasped, trying to get rid of the huge invisible hand clutching my throat. "I can explain..." The grip fastened. I coughed.

"You!" Severus snarled, not bothering to lower his wand. "I should have known!"

I could not reply. I could not breathe. My hand made a weak attempt to grab the invisible hand holding me, but soon everything around me began to spin and I noticed my limbs twitching uncontrollably before I fell into a deep, satisfying darkness.

I was not unconscious for very long.

When I heard voices again I was still lying on the floor of Severus's living-room, which seemed to revolve around my pounding head.

"You almost killed her," I heard Dumbledore's reproachful voice. "Is that what you call self-control?" Severus did not seem to know what to reply and I opened my eyes to see his face. Both, Severus and Dumbledore, were directing their wands at me, the latter looking more serious than I had ever seen him. I gave them a puzzled look, "Professor Dumble-"

"Florence, I must take you into custody," Dumbledore said calmly. "You are working for Lord Voldemort." (I flinched at the unpleasant name, but Dumbledore chose to ignore it.) "You have," he continued, "made use of the Unforgivable Curses and watched other wizards and witches do so without reporting it to me or the Ministry of Magic." I was lost for words. Severus was handing me over? What an absurd thought.

"Did he tell you?" I asked weakly, pointing at Severus. Dumbledore remained silent.

"I must talk to you," I said finally turning away from him and towards Severus. "I have to explain what happened... at the N.E.W.T.s party."

"I can do without!" Severus snapped. "There is no need to talk."

"Yes, there is," I stammered. "You don't know what happened. You... you haven't seen everything!" Severus gave me a murderous look, turned and left the room.

"Severus!" I howled. "Come back! Let me at least _try_ to explain it!" I did not care what Dumbledore might think. I did not care what Mr. Crouch might think, who was entering the room at this very moment, holding his wand like a sword. I leapt to my feet and tried to follow Severus, which gave the arriving Minister a completely false idea. He grabbed the collar of my robes and pulled me back.

"Another attempt like that and we will have no choice but to use a Stunning Spell," he growled. "Are you going to put up resistance or will you come quietly?"

"SEVERUS!" I yelled into the corridor, the echo magnified the sound multiple times. "Come back! I am sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!" An impulsive sob followed and I realised that it was my own. Tears filled my eyes and I felt that I had no longer the strength to fight them. Dumbledore grabbed my arm with an unexpected gentleness.

"Did you hear what the Minister said, Florence?" he muttered. "I strongly recommend you to obey. For your own good."

I stared at him in fear and alarm. "He mustn't leave me," I whispered. "I didn't mean to... would never have... all I ever wanted was... him."

An strange gleam of recognition suddenly appeared in Dumbledore's eyes and his grip fastened. He looked as though he was about to say something, but Crouch was quicker.

"Leave her to me, Dumbledore," he said. "I have two men upstairs who can take her to Azkaban. Dumbledore hesitated for a brief second. "Very well," he said finally. "I suppose someone should keep an eye on Severus now."


	9. Seeing Yourself

**

Seeing Yourself

**

The sun had risen and was flickering through the tree-tops in what seemed an almost scornful manner. A light breeze finally succeeded in waking me from a light sleep and the first thing I noticed at this rather damp Saturday morning was that my clothes were soaking wet. A souvenir from my first night outside. I sniffed loudly, stretched and tried to get up. This, however, required a second and, to my great annoyance, a third attempt, before I was finally feebly standing on my staggering feet at last. I felt stupid and clumsy.

"Flabby Florence falls frequently," I muttered. "Now, I'm sure there must be a river somewhere near..."

Of course there was none. I had not seen a natural waterway since I had left Azkaban seven day ago, which meant I would have to beg for a drink on a Muggle doorstep again.

Yes, I had escaped. Amazing though it may sound. That prison was full of witches and wizards, mightier than I would probably ever be, but I had done it. I was proud. Pleased with myself. And a bit dirty, hungry and completely alone. No one had probably even noticed my absence yet. Why would they? There were much more dangerous and important wizards in Azkaban than me. At the moment, for the first time in years, more inmates than Dementors.

My blissful mood changed into despair and self-pity within seconds. What had I escaped for? What was I going to do in this big, dangerous world that had not ever done anything but harm to me? I knew it. My escape had only been the last step in a chain of events that had occurred in consequence of Dumbledore's visit.

Yes, indeed, Dumbledore had entered the cold and gloomy world of Azkaban prison to see me. To talk to me, as he liked to put it, but I had not been ready to talk to him. I had, at that time, decided that my life was about to end and that it was only a matter of time until the prison walls would drive me crazy. Or the Dementors. Dumbledore had known it, of course.

"You will have to choose eventually, Florence," he had said. "Azkaban is an island, not the final destination."

I had given him an apathetic look. One that clearly lacked understanding of what he had said.

"You won't die in this prison," Dumbledore had informed me. "Hardly anyone does. Most of them are released before that. Probation, they call it. And what will you do then, Florence?"

I still did not speak. I had no idea what he wanted and why he had come. Why would he not let me die in peace?

"Of course," said Dumbledore, "you have no idea what I want or why I have come to you now. Let me explain..."

I hurried to change my look from indifferent to uninterested. He, however, did not ignore me, but returned my look openly cheerful, which was as confusing as irritating in this situation.

"Do you remember what you said before you were brought here, Florence?" he asked.

I shook my head and made sure my eyes narrowed to a satisfying extend.

"That was eighteen months ago!"

My first reply. He seemed satisfied - and he did not believe me.

"I told my Potions master," he continued, causing me to clutch my fists, almost instinctively at the mention of this specific person, "that he must decide which side he wants to be on."

I did not return his look. Must not think - must not remember! It hurt.

"You might be interested to hear that Severus has made his decision," Dumbledore continued in a low voice, "_against_ Lord Voldemort."

I flinched. The Dark Lord's name had still its effect on me. Dumbledore watched me with an expression I could not quite grasp. Was it pity? Or was he trying to read something into my startled reaction?

"Severus is a Death Eater, just as I am," I replied with an odd sort of toneless finality in my voice, which was unexpected, but nevertheless more than welcome. "He would _never_ betray the Dark Lord, just as little as I would have done - had there been a trial."

"Yes, Crouch never gave you the chance to defend yourself, did he?" Dumbledore nodded, purposefully ignoring the rest of my words. "A point in which, I must say, I do not quite agree with him. I would have welcomed an opportunity to help you change your mind, Florence."

"How do you know I _want_ to change my mind?" I snarled.

"Why did you join the Death Eaters?" he retorted and I flinched again. This time because his remark had set loose a flood of memories I could not fight back. The thought of Severus and my first encounter with the Dark Lord was stirring a bunch of hot tears and I swallowed hard to fight them back.

"Severus...," I whispered, managing just barely to suppress the rest of my confession.

Dumbledore nodded. "Is that all?"

"I-"

"Did you torture and kill for Severus's sake?" he said sharply, looking at me as if trying to x-ray my mind. New memories were invading my head and I was, at long last, not able to fight back my tears any longer.

"No," I sobbed. "No, no, no! I never used the Cruciatus Curse. Never ever even uttered it!"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Why not?"

"It is cruel," I said after a short moment's consideration. "Cruel and pointless."

"And Avada Kedavra," Dumbledore whispered, "is not?"

"Not if you have the choice between either of them," I managed to say before my voice failed me completely. Dumbledore nodded slowly, thoughtfully. I was confused. Why did he pretend to understand? What was the reason for his visit?

"Lord Voldemort," he said and I flinched again, "keeps many people under his control by means of one of the Unforgivable Curses. You are not the only one who is afraid of torture."

"But don't you understand..." I managed to bring forth. "It is not... I am not afraid of... of _pain_." My head felt like it was about to burst. "It is something entirely different...!"

Dumbledore nodded and waited.

"Like fog," I muttered and at the same time noticed that my whole body was trembling as it has not done in years, "thick, white fog that covers everything. My feelings... memories... everything inside my head is absorbed... I lose control..."

My voice shook. But the shiver running down my spine now was of surprising comfort all of a sudden. Not unpleasant, in any case. It was good. Talking was so good. Dumbledore listening without interrupting was good. I told him what had happened before Azkaban had thrown its shadow over my soul. I spoke and Dumbledore listened - for almost an hour. Then I cowered into a corner, buried my face under my crossed arms and cried silently into my lap. Dumbledore had risen and walked towards me with big, unruffled steps. He placed his hand at my shoulder and a warmth spread inside me like never before. For a very long time he did nothing but stand there and I did not dare move, fearing he might decide to leave again. Then, after a long silence, interrupted only by my sobs, I noticed an almost imperceptible sigh, rising from his chest. "It is your decision, Florence," he said as calmly as ever.

"It's not," I whimpered. "They say you always have the choice, but that's just... it isn't true." Dumbledore did not reply. I had the feeling he would have contradicted but restrained from doing so. Instead, he fastened his grip on my shoulder and I continued speaking in a low voice just to avoid another silence. "Do you believe in predestination, Professor?"

"No," said Dumbledore firmly and I gave him a surprised, almost pleading look full of pain and distress. "Why not? How can you be so sure?"

"It doesn't matter whether I am sure or not," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "but if I didn't think I was responsible for my actions - how could I possibly be leading a school? Therefore, I have decided, long ago, to not believe in predestination."

I was confused. "You mean to say you want to be responsible for your actions?"

"Taking responsibility is an essential part of a person's life," he replied calmly, "and of the process of growing up. Again, I can only lead my students this way if I know where to go, wouldn't you agree?"

"Brave thinking," I muttered and shrugged.

He nodded. "It is one of the reasons why our Slytherins tend to fall for the Dark Lord's promises quite often - and Gryffindors don't. It was also the main difference between old Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor."

"The courage of taking responsibility?" I said doubtfully. "Or to grow up?"

"Both," Dumbledore replied. "Remember what the Sorting Hat tries to elucidate so nicely each year. He does seem to put it in suitable wording quite often. Only that - most people tend to misunderstand him."

The Sorting Hat. Of course.

"Quite some howler he made with me, ey?" I muttered and frowned. Dumbledore shook his head.

"The Sorting Hat makes no mistakes," he said. "But he can only see potential. It is still your choice what you do with your life."

"Why did you say that Slytherins usually turn to the dark side then?" I said angrily and was surprised to see Dumbledore startled at this remark.

"No Florence, don't you understand? It is the other way round! Most Hogwarts students who switch over to the dark side in later years have been in Slytherin. Not nearly all of them, though. They are just more likely, in most cases, given their personal background. Voldemort's most tantalising offer is that he will take responsibility for all your actions. Tempting, indeed, especially for those who are forced to take sides very early in life."

"You mean," I began to understand, "the sons and daughters of Death Eaters?"

"For example," Dumbledore nodded. "I noticed your bewilderment when I informed you of your parents' deaths. Again and again I have been scolding myself for not offering more support at that point. Knew I had forced you into a decision far too early. Then Severus seemed to relieve me of my duties. I thought he would show you which side provided the mental support you were craving for. ... Mind you, he did, but not the way I had intended, of course. He is in a terrible state of mind now."

"Is he, now?" I said approvingly. Dumbledore gave me a weak smile.

"He does not talk about it, of course. But he cannot fool me. He has great difficulties putting up with your separation, Florence. With you leaving him, that is."

"But I haven't..." I stopped, realising how the story probably sounded if told by Professor McGonagall, and shut my trap.

"Unfortunately, I will be compelled to leave in a minute," Dumbledore said after a while, "but I hope I made you think."

I nodded mutely. He certainly had.

"Will you return?" I asked and he nodded.

"If you wish... I'll be back in a week's time."

I, however, had long left Azkaban by that time.

A witch's life can be strange sometimes. In a way, Azkaban had perfectly served its purpose. I was back. And I was determined to take responsibility. After Dumbledore had left again, I had asked for a piece of parchment and a quill to write down my new life's resolutions: _find Severus, make him listen, explain everything - but how_? This annotation was erased. Nothing to worry about just yet. What else? Oh yes: _win him back, win him back, win him back, kill the Dark Lord_. Kill the Dark Lord. Kill the Dark Lord... well... perhaps not quite, what with him being the most powerful wizard on earth... With an insecure smile I had erased this last sentence as well and got rid of the piece of parchment.

No, this was other people's business. But I could abjure from him, renounce the Dark Arts, quit his service. I decided that I, Florence Dyker, would not be controlled by fear anymore - for the rest of my life.

This, I was about to find out, proved to be easier said than done, however.

When, after a long and seemingly endless march, I finally reached one of the small villages near the Scottish border my newly gained audacity had noticeably shrunk. I had not eaten for a long time, was freezing all over, and I was still in no possession of a wand or a broom. I decided to enter the village's only pub eventually, feeling very sorry for myself and obviously looking very pitiable, since its owner provided me with several pints on the house, without asking where I came from and where I was going.

"Ye need tae be carefil in this part o' the kintra," he informed me politely. "A noticed an unco lot o' shady characters on and aboot lately. Widnae put it past 'em tae attack a mauchtless lassie oot o' pure spine."

I produced a short laugh. Helpless. Well, surely - without my wand you could certainly call me that. But right now the thing I really had to worry about was how to get hold of a broom. Perhaps I could just take any broom-shaped object and try to persuade it to lift from the ground as the medieval witches and wizards must have done? I shot a scrutinising look at the coat-stand. Suddenly, however, the innkeeper was there again.

"Take anither'un," he said. "Ma wife just gave birth to our third son."

I gave him a friendly, though unfocussed smile and he forced a piece of paper into my hand.

"Here. Ye might enjoy this. One of the lads brought it - must be a joke of some sorts. Toss it in the bin if ye dinnae like it."

I stared at the sheet of paper in my hand. It was a piece torn from a paper of some sorts. Yellowed and torn. There were no pictures on it, but the font had something oddly familiar about it. I wondered about this and, in spite of a clear dislike for anything to do with Muggle politics, began to read the headline.

I had not read more than three words, however, when I realised that I was holding in my hands what I had been desiring for days. It was a page ripped from the Daily Prophet. I was holding a piece of my own world in my very hands. This, after so many days of loneliness, was so exciting that I began to smooth the paper and read without hesitation.

Lucius Malfoy, former member of the Dark Force Defence League and heir to the colossal Malfoy property in the Northern Highlands now counts himself among the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord's followers. It was confirmed today that Malfoy, previously advocate and defender of law and order, has now officially overridden it. Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry gave a definite declaration that, at present, "it is not possible to decide whether Malfoy is acting on his own, free will" or under the influence of the Imperius Curse. "We will, however," Professor Dumbledore states, "take severe measures against his deeds, Imperio or not." Some of Malfoy's closest friends let us know that it is "certainly possible to fight the Imperius Curse. Malfoy, however, has neither enough skill nor the power required to break such a strong curse," according to Severus Snape, one of Malfoy's closest friends at school and currently Potions Master at Hogwarts. A spokesman of the ministry informs us that the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, has given orders to "hunt Malfoy down by the same means he uses to torture and kill Muggles." However, the supposed culprit of various severe offences, among them the murder of various Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards, is nowhere to be found. He, his wife Narcissa and their new-born son Draco have long gone into hiding. Rumour has it that Draco's elder brother, who is said to have died on a flying accident, is also still alive and currently trained up to become the Dark Lord's successor in case the war takes an unexpected turn. The body, in any case, has never been found. 

I stared at the article and feverishly tried to put make some sense out of them. Marcus Malfoy - Lucius's eldest son, of course. I had met him. Back at Severus's little hut... on New Year's Eve. And at this moment I suddenly remembered where I had heard the name 'Wormtail' before. Lucius had mentioned it in passing when he and Severus had been planning the attack on Edgar Bones and his wife. 'Wormtail' was one of the Dark Lord's spies.

"Impossible!" I gasped when realising the full meaning of this. Peter was one of James's best friends. He wouldn't... I stopped in mid-thought. _Of course_ he would! It fitted all too well. The situation had changed and yet, it was still the same as it had been several years ago. Peter had always been taking care to stay in reach of mighty friends who looked after him. And, like me, he was mightily afraid of the Dark Arts. How had Dumbledore put it... 'Voldemort's most tantalising offer is that he will take responsibility for your actions.' _Of course_ Peter would have liked that. The Dark Lord provided everything James and Sirius had always possessed by nature: power, fame and more or less reasonable goals in life. I lowered the newspaper slowly, thoughtfully - and looked into the eyes of the innkeeper.

"Remarkable, ain't it?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "If ye're interested - a heiv plenty more in the warehoose."

I understood. This was not unusual. Why should a wizard not settle down in the county to open a pub and live like a Muggle? For most of the time, at least? And naturally he would immediately recognise me for what I was. My face lit in relief and anticipation.

"I need a broom," I said flatly. "An old Cleansweep or anything, I-"

"Ye'll find whatever ye need in the shed," he interrupted with a quick glance at his other customers. "Ask the lad - see him over there? He'll give ye a hand."

Less than an hour later I was sitting at the fastest broom of our time, floating hundreds of feet above the ground, zooming towards the nearest place I could think of where I had friends, Godric's Hollow, the home of Lily and James Potter. Sam, the very amiable son of the innkeeper, had, very surprisingly, agreed to put his Nimbus 1000 at my disposal, which meant that I would be able to reach my destination within seven minutes. And I knew exactly what to do from there. I had to contact Professor Dumbledore. He was sensible and intelligent. He would know our conversation had made me think. Had caused the changes inside me. He would know what to do about Peter. And about the Dark Lord. And... and possibly even about Severus. I thought. I hoped.

I landed in front of Lily's and James's house with a lot of newly gained confidence and pleasantly raised spirits... except that there was no house.

My first thought was that I had taken a wrong turn. Mistakes like this happened all the time if you travelled by broom and I had visited Godric's Hollow only once before. To make things worse, it had become rather foggy and I had difficulties distinguishing one houses from the other. But the Potters' house had stood on a little hill which seemed to have vanished as well for no apparent reason, so I could not be fooled. There was something decidedly wrong here.

"A spell," I concluded. "An enchantment. Fidelius, most probably. Something thoroughly safe." I considered for a few more minutes and then shrugged. "Good for them," I thought. "It's probably the best thing to do these days. Well, that just means I'll have to sit through another two or three hours on this blasted broomstick."

I was just about to leave again, however, when I heard a sudden voice near by that made me stop dead.

"Have patience, master. Not long now and you'll be able to see it."

And then I heard the Dark Lord. He suddenly turned up right before me and I had only just time to slip behind a bush to prevent my instant discovery.

"Well, Wormtail," I heard his high-pitched and impatient voice. "Where is it?"

"Over there," the other person replied and, sure enough, I recognised the voice of Peter Pettigrew, the most dim-witted piece of scum ever to contaminate the Hogwarts corridors - to put it in Severus's distinguished words. "Can't you see it?"

I saw the Dark Lord exposing his wand and grabbing Pettigrew's arm. He looked as though he was absorbing the information he so urgently needed and Pettigrew moaned, apparently in pain.

"Excellent!" hissed the Dark Lord. "There it is."

I was doing some very quick thinking. The Secret Keeper. Of course. And they had chosen Peter? For what reason? I frowned. Thought some more, then, gradually, understood the logic behind this. Of course! This was clever. Brilliant, even. Peter was the little group's coward. The one least likely to withstand torture. The one most likely to blab. He was the one the Dark Lord would have been least likely to seek... had he not gone to seek the Dark Lord himself.

The latter pproached a point in the distance which I was sure was invisible for the normal eye, regardless of the thick fog that was intensifying every minute. To my great discomfort a sudden thought told me that now everything depended on me. That James and Lily had no idea about the approaching danger and would be easy to slaughter if attacked so very unexpectedly in the middle of the night. It was this thought and an unexpected impulse that made me jump forward, grab Pettigrew's wand and point it at the Dark Lord.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

There was a flash of green light and something like a bolt of lightning was zooming towards my former master, but the blast of energy evaporated without leaving a mark at the Dark Lord's long, billowing cloak. I stared. Obviously surprised but without much haste the Dark Lord turned and looked into my eyes so that I was forced to blink eventually, and turn my head just slightly.

"Florence," he whispered, "what a... surprise."

I knew he meant it. He seemed neither upset nor angry in any way, I realised, however, that I had probably just shortened my life expectation by a considerable number of years, given that I had just made an unsuccessful attempt of killing the most powerful wizard on earth, perhaps of all times. This, I summed up, is hardly ever an exceedingly healthy thing to do, especially if you are armed only with another wizard's wand and very easy to intimidate. I stepped backwards. The Dark Lord, however, smirked and made a step forward. Just a small one, but it was enough to let a cold shiver run all over my back. He, on the other hand, just stood there and waited. Took his time. He liked to play around with his prey, I knew.

"Wormtail, you idiot," he said, evidently not at all annoyed about his servant's blunder, "just imagine what could have happened if my experiments had not been so exceedingly satisfying. _Expelliarmus!_"

The spell deprived me of my newly gained powers before I could react and I took another automatic step backwards at once. Like a giant black snake the Dark Lord approached me, his red eyes gleaming dangerously. My curse had not even scratched him.

"What shall I do with a witch who has just tried to kill Lord Voldemort?" he said slowly. "Wormtail - have a guess." He came even closer and I recoiled once more, eyes wide open, taking deep, scared breaths, completely at a loss how to face this man.

"Kill her," Peter said, obviously relieved that the Dark Lord's anger spared him and hit me instead, "quickly and without much effort."

"Very good, Wormtail," the Dark Lord hissed. "You're learning fast. A merciful solution, isn't it? What about... a _Death Eater_ who has just tried to kill her _Master_?" He laid special emphasis on the last word and I shuddered. A lifetime of service or death, I thought. It was true, after all. Pettigrew did not seem to know the answer. He remained silent and pointed his wand at me with shaking hands. Unnecessarily, of course.

"Disappointing, Wormtail," the Dark Lord now said in barely more than a whisper. "But I cn see your reason, of course. This," he turned at me, "has never happened before." I noticed that I was shaking all over and squashed against a wall behind me, the Dark Lord's wand pointed at my chest. He gave me a nasty smile. "_Crucio!_" he said softly, knowing how I loathed and feared these words at the same time.

I screamed. For the second time in my life I was hit by the Cruciatus Curse and for the second time I felt my mind leaving me along with all my memories and my sense of self. But it did not last. After a few seconds the Dark Lord withdrew his wand, waited until I had recovered and spoke in a voice of unconcealed, hateful triumph.

"You are going to die, Florence. You were never _meant_ to survive this war, to speak the truth. When those fools at the Ministry thought the need of imprisoning you I thought it would save me the trouble of killing you in person, but I seem to have been mistaken. I only hope you realise that you have, long ago, chosen this death for yourself, Florence."

And with a short nod towards Pettigrew the Dark Lord turned and vanished in the direction of James's and Lily's house. Peter did not hesitate.

"_Crucio_," he muttered and although I tried to evade further torture I was already too weak to even move.

I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. I could not say for how long. When, as before, my mind evaporated, when the knives returned and every layer of my skin seemed to be scraped from my body I suddenly felt how I began to float. Suddenly, I could see myself lying on the floor, screaming at twitching uncontrollably after a while. Pettigrew's face remained motionless. He was determinedly pointing his want at me and I knew that he was not going to stop.

"I am dying," I suddenly thought. "This is dying and I can see it."

And then, suddenly, a thought stroke me. A possibility suddenly hit me, of taking revenge for all the things the Dark Lord had done to me. He was having me killed, but as long as my spirit had not truly left my body I was not dead. And a spirit could save human life. I had once heard Professor Binns talk about it. A spirit could... protect a living person.

I heard a woman's screams from Godric's Hollow and realised that Lily had been defeated. From a distance, I saw two souls leave this world towards another which I was not able to enter yet. But nor was I willing to. In this house my chance to take revenge was assuming shape. The shape of a little boy - the son of Lily and James...

I felt my bodiless self being dragged towards this boy's soul and allowed myself drifting in his direction with a slight smile at my non-existent face. I saw Lord Voldemort pointing his wand at little Harry with what seemed to be a look of grim satisfaction.

"Now or never," was Florence Dyker's last thought in this world before a flash of blinding green light illuminated the room for a second and everything went quiet.

* * *

**Author's notes:** And that's it. Huge thanks to you all for your interest and support! This is actually the first fanfic I have ever written, only that I have never had the courage of putting it up - until now. Great to see people read and like it.


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